


Rogers Investigative Services

by caleprwrite



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Abusive Brock Rumlow, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Artist Steve Rogers, Awkward Flirting, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Body Shots, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Card Counting, Consent is Sexy, Dorks in Love, F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gay Bucky Barnes, M/M, Mean Girls References, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Private Investigator Steve Rogers, Protective Steve Rogers, Recovery, Science Nerd Bucky Barnes, Shameless Fight Club Reference, Stalking, Stan Lee Cameo, Stark Industries, TW: mention of HTP/gang-rape, Tony Stark Is a Good Bro, Top Steve Rogers, body image issues, public frottage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-06-19 01:59:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 20
Words: 44,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15499797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caleprwrite/pseuds/caleprwrite
Summary: Based on the prompt:"I’m a private detective hired to follow you, but you’re endearingly boring and mostly I just like watching you and oops, I sort of find you adorable."But it’sSteve Rogers...So you know he’ll fuck it up somehow. That is until he doesn’t.





	1. Bed-Stuy of All Places

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve is NOT a hipster, dammit!

 

 

 

**Bed-Stuy of All Places**

Steve thumbed through his mail as he climbed up the stairs to his third floor walk up in Brooklyn Heights. An elevator would be nice considering he was carrying a carton of milk, a bag of take out and a twelve pack of beer but he really couldn’t complain. Hipsters be damned, he’d grown up not far from there and it was where he vowed to always call home.

A colorful postcard caught his eye, stuck in between the glossy junk mail flyers and bland envelopes. He pulled on the corner to slide it out and grinned when he looked down and saw a classic photo of Fisherman’s Bastion in Budapest.

_Natasha._

He grinned wider. God, he sure loved his friend. Loved her just like the pain in the ass kid sister she had always been to him. He stopped on the second floor landing to flip the postcard over. As he silently read the caption, he mouthed the words, eyes trailing over her tidy scrawl.

 

_Steeeve!!!_

_The architecture here is amazing. I wish you could have come with me to see it._

_I’m missing you a ton. I’ll probably spend a few more days here and then it’s off to somewhere new. Not sure yet where, but you’ll find out when you get your next postcard._ **_:)_ **

_You’ll never believe it, I met a guy… He’s actually from Bed-Stuy of all places. Can you believe it? I think I might keep him_ **_:)_ **

_All my love,_

_Nat_

 

Steve’s eyebrows shot up when he read the part about Natasha meeting a fellow Brooklynite all the way across the world. He shook his head.

_She would._

The protective big brother in him grumbled about not knowing who the guy was or if he’d treat her well. It wasn’t like Natasha couldn’t take care of herself, she was the toughest person he knew. But her heart was still a little raw after her recent breakup. And just because she could _literally_ kill Bed-Stuy Guy with her bare hands didn’t mean her heart was immune to being broken again.

Steve finished his trek up the last set of steps and pulled his key from around his neck. The two locks slid open and he shoved his door open with his hip just as his phone vibrated in his pocket. And of course the plastic bag he’d used well past the recommended time frame decided to take that time to rip right down the side. His carton of milk from the bodega down the street tumbled against his thigh, bounced off his foot and landed on the wood floor.

“Fuck,” he muttered and dropped the mail.

He knelt down in efforts to save his take-out and salvage the dented carton before it leaked everywhere.

_Smooth, Rogers, real smooth._

Luckily, the carton didn’t leak, he didn’t drop the beer, the bag with his take-out remained intact, and the postcard was safe. He kicked his door closed and took his stuff to the kitchen.

Steve stuck the postcard on the front of the fridge with the others from Natasha, and loaded the rest of his crap inside the fridge. He sighed. Was this really his life? What happened to his dreams of being a starving artist, anyhow?

_Oh yeah, right. Starving sucked._

Steve’s late teen years had brought with them an _enormous_ growth spurt and starving wasn’t an option, nor was it any fucking fun. That’s why he used his imposing 6’2” of solid fucking muscle to his advantage and had his own private investigative and security business. It paid extremely well and allowed him to set his own schedule, so that was great. It also gave him time for his art, in theory. The years he spent in learning martial arts as a scrawny kid at his Ma’s insistence were good for that kind of thing, too But the best by-product of that entire experience? Hands down, it was his friendship with Natasha.

Steve promptly dumped the junk mail into his recycle bin and made a mental note to sign up for paperless billing on his electricity bill. And he wasn’t a hipster, goddammit, he just knew there was less and less space in the landfill these days.

He grabbed a beer from the fridge and went to sit on the sofa with his box of shrimp lo-mein. When he flipped on the television, the evening’s fight at Barclays Center was just getting started, so he picked up his phone to give Sam some shit.

 

 **Steve:** _You coming or WTF_

 **Sam:**   _Almost there_

 **Sam:** _Some of us gotta work normal hours_

 **Steve:**   _Ha excuses!!!_

 **Steve:** _Your guy’s gonna get knocked TF out tonight_

 **Sam:** _In your dreams_

 **Steve:** _Get your ass here before I eat all your food_

 **Sam:** _You wouldn’t!_

 **Steve:**  * _evil laugh*_

 **Sam:** _You suck!_

 **Steve:** _Been known to LOL_ ** _;P_**

 **Sam:** _Really? TMI man_ ** _> :(_**

 **Steve:** _Hey, I haven’t had any complaints_

 **Sam:** _You win!_

 

Precisely ten minutes later, Steve’s front door opened and Sam clambered in through the foyer. He appreciated Steve leaving the door open and all, but he turned and locked the door after himself anyway, shaking his head in annoyance at Steve’s bad habit. One day, he would walk in and find his friend dead. He just knew it.

“Sammy!” Steve bellowed with a big grin when his friend entered the living room. “The food’s on the counter. Grab me another beer while you’re in there, yeah?”

“Mmm,” Sam groaned hungrily as he stuck his nose in his takeout container. He did a double-take at the fridge and pulled off the latest. When he turned it over, he read the caption.

“Nat went all the way to Budapest to meet some guy from Bed-Stuy? That’s crazy, man.”

Steve grunted through a mouth of food, still not crazy about the idea of the guy.

“Uh-oh, big brother ain’t too happy ‘bout it, huh?” Sam teased and Steve shrugged.

“Yeah, well… We’ll see, I guess.” Steve stabbed another shrimp with a chopstick and shoved it in his mouth. “You owe me twenty bucks, by the way. Derevyanchenko kicked Johnson’s ass. _Just_ like I said he would.”

Sam made an unimpressed noise in the back of his throat around a mouthful of lo-mein.

“Whatever man, that’s just the undercard. I’m here for Alicia and Femke. My girl’s got the home team advantage.”

 _“Our_ girl,” Steve corrected and they saluted each other by tapping their chopsticks together.

They were both rooting for their fellow New Yorker. The actual bet in question, however, was for the Super Welterweight Championship. Steve’s phone went off again and he leaned forward to get it off the coffee table, almost knocking his beer over in the process. Luckily, his quick reflexes saved the phone and Sam’s new shoes.

“You okay there?” Sam asked, a teasing glimmer in his eyes. “I gotta cut you off already?”

“Hah,” Steve deadpanned as he checked his phone.

There was a notification for a new job, closely followed by another request for service from the same person. He figured this one was either a very paranoid husband or there was a serious problem. Either way, both paid well, so he rose to go call the client from his studio-office-second bedroom.

“Be right back, man.”

Steve closed the door over and dialed the guy’s number. On the second ring, a man answered, his voice impatient, raspy and rough. Something about it made Steve frown. Nat would call it a bad aura, but she was into crystals and chakras and all that shit.

“This is Rogers Investigative Services returning your call. How can I help you?”

“I need you to keep an eye on someone for me. You do that kind of thing?”

“I can,” Steve answered noncommittally. Something about the guy seemed off. He needed more information before he’d accept the job. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

The guy sighed and he sounded annoyed, of all things.

“Just tell me if he’s doin’ what he says he is. Goin’ where he’s supposed to go. Not seein’ people he shouldn’t see.”

The guy sounded like a fucking creep, and suddenly Steve wasn’t so much interested in the money as much as he was the person on the other end of the equation. It wouldn’t be the first time a total asshat hired him just for him to find out it was the stalker that was paying him the fees. And call Steve a double-agent, but if the person was too creepy, he had no problem warning the other party off.

 _After_ he got paid, of course. He wasn’t stupid.

“Sure. I can help you with that. I’m available to meet you in the morning to discuss my contract rate and the specifics. What area are you in?”

“Staten Island.”

Steve should have figured as much.

“And the subject?”

“Manhattan, mostly.”

“Great. This is my cell. Text me somewhere convenient for you, and I’ll meet you there at 9am,” he agreed. He really just wanted to get back to the fight before he missed any more.

“Eight is better,” Creepy Guy replied and Steve shrugged.

“Sure. See you then. Thanks for reaching out.”


	2. Creepy Guy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Easy money doesn’t always come so easy.

**Creepy Guy**

[](https://imgur.com/qf0yvzf)

Steve walked into the coffee shop and was flagged down by a well built dark-haired man with lightly pockmarked skin. He slid his messenger bag off his shoulder, laying it neatly against the leg of the chair. 

The man squinted his dark eyes at Steve and cocked his head to the side the tiniest bit. And of fucking course, Steve was correct. Creepy Guy was indeed creepy. Steve reached his hand out.

“Steve Rogers, nice to meet you.”

“Brock Rumlow,” Creepy Guy replied, gripping Steve’s hand a little tighter than necessary for a professional meeting.

Steve took a drink of his coffee; dark roast with a splash of milk, just like he liked it. 

“So, Mr. Rumlow, what can I do for you?”

“I gotta feelin’ I’m bein’ lied to. If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s a liar.”

Steve nodded. It sounded simple enough, and Steve could read this guy like a comic book. He was a paranoid, abusive asshole. Something the other person probably needed to be shown in objective terms.

“Who is it you suspect is lying to you?”

Rumlow straightened in his chair and met Steve’s eyes defiantly with a challenge to his posture.

“My partner.”

“Partner got a name?” Steve asked blandly. 

Interesting. Rumlow was gay, it seemed, and he was clearly expecting Steve to react negatively  to the revelation. Joke was on him.

“James.” 

Rumlow slid over a photo of the two of them together, and wow, James was beautiful. He looked younger than Rumlow by quite a few years, and was  _ way _ out of the guy’s league, if you asked Steve. 

The photo showed the two of them at NYU, James dressed in a cap and gown for graduation. It was a slightly awkward pose, Rumlow staring possessively at James and holding him by the back of the neck. James looked to be demurring as to not upset the burly man. The body language in the photo made Steve’s stomach twist in irritation.  

“He just graduated and landed a paid internship at Stark Industries. Says he’s working directly with the man himself.”

Steve’s brows rose, “Wow, congratulations. That’s supposed to be one of the toughest companies to break into.”

Rumlow made a noise of disdain. 

“Exactly. That’s why I’m not sold on the whole deal. I asked him to move in, but he says he ain’t ready for that yet. I think I know why.”

“Ah,” Steve nodded again. “You suspect he didn’t land the gig with Stark the old-fashioned way?”

This job was getting easier and easier. Little did this Rumlow guy know, Steve and the Stark family went way back. What Rumlow was insinuating wasn’t the way Tony rolled _ or  _ how he ran his business.

“Exactly. And it’s not like I can just walk in to check on him in a place like that. Convenient, ain’t it?”

“Hmm,” he half shrugged. “Can I ask what it is you do, Mr. Rumlow?” 

Rumlow narrowed his dark eyes at Steve and sat back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. He flexed his muscles on purpose, which was funny, really. Steve was built like a brick shit-house, so there was that.

“I’m a personal trainer. Privately. Got a lotta high-profile clients I can’t discuss, you understand.”

“Of course.” Steve reached into his bag and brought out a contract. “I’d be happy to help you. My rates are outlined below,” he pointed to the bottom of the page. After flipping to the next page, Steve drew a line down the side of the conditions clause. “Fill out as much as you can on the subject of the investigation here.

“These are the specific actions that are unlawful in the State of New York. If there’s something listed here you’re expecting, I can’t help you, but if you do hire me I need you to initial each page. You’ll sign and date at the end. 

“Payment is expected by cash or credit upfront, as are fees for any additional services you choose to add on at a later date. Feel free to take your time reviewing the contract. You can call me if you have any questions. Just let me know once you’ve made your decision.”

“No need, I’ve made my decision. When can you start?” Rumlow asked, picking up Steve’s pen, scribbling in the information and blindly signing the documents.

“Today, if you like. You can expect an update in two weeks.”

Steve watched as Rumlow dug into his wallet and pulled out a significant amount of cash. He counted it out like he was one of the Sopranos or something, and pushed the money across the table to Steve.

“That should cover it. I’m goin’ out of town tomorrow, so the timin’ is perfect for him to slip up.”

Rumlow rolled up his copies of the contract, stood and walked out. 

Literally. 

Without another word.

_ Fuck Staten Island. _

Steve shook his head and shut his mouth, which had dropped open in response to the guy’s impressive lack of manners. He packed up his things and took the asshole’s cup to the trash with his own. Suddenly he didn’t feel like enjoying the rest of his coffee. He much preferred going back home to Brooklyn to get started.


	3. Who the Hell is Bucky?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, things fall into place...

**Who the Hell is Bucky**

Steve got home and pulled the contract and his laptop out of his bag. Social media was always a good start, so he entered James’ name into his search box and didn’t find anything. He tried Rumlow’s information next and Rumlow’s Facebook listed him as in a relationship with a  _ Bucky _ Barnes, which Steve thought was an adorable nickname and fit the kid perfectly. Steve looked back at the contract and smirked without humor. The area for information on nicknames and aliases was of course, left blank. 

_ Thanks for the help, asshole. _

Luckily, Rumlow’s Facebook profile was public, as was Bucky’s. He clicked on Bucky’s page and scrolled through the photos. Of all the recent ones, there were only a few where he was actually smiling naturally. In everything that included Rumlow, Bucky’s smile looked either forced or empty. It kinda broke Steve’s heart a little, which was weird. He didn’t know the kid, but the difference in his spirit was that obvious. 

Steve went back to Rumlow’s page to see what he could find. There were plenty of posts filled with rantings and online arguments. Rumlow was heavy into white nationalism, fat-shaming and misogynistic jokes. Along with that were plenty of selfies of him flexing and various pictures of protein powder drinks. The guy, if it was at all possible, managed to get more and more undesirable by the minute. 

There was another man that made frequent appearances in Rumlow’s photos, as well as liked and commented on almost every post. He was a real greasy looking bastard named Jack Rollins. Steve made a mental note to look the guy up later.

Steve searched Instagram, Twitter and LinkedIn for Bucky Barnes, and was pleasantly surprised to see an account under Bucky’s name for each app. From the looks of it, Bucky had been dodging his friends quite regularly since graduation. Steve would bet good money that had nothing to do with Bucky flaking purposely, and everything to do with Rumlow being a controlling dick.  

Just then Steve’s phone buzzed with a message from Tony. His ears must have been ringing.

 

 **Tony:** _Still up for some extra work?_

 **Steve:** _Sure, whaddya got?_

 **Tony:** _Happy’s other guy fell through so we need help for the convention next  Wednesday_

 **Tony:** _Got a new group of evil minions this year but other than that same as usual_

 **Steve:** You’re taking your interns to the convention?  

 **Tony:** _That’s kinda the point of having them, Steven_

 

Of course Tony was bringing the interns to the convention. Steve just thought it was odd that Rumlow didn’t mention anything about his partner going to something like that, considering he was one of said interns. Maybe he didn’t know? Or maybe it was the universe aligning the planets like Nat would say.

 

 **Tony:** _You okay there Steve?_

 **Steve:** _Always._

 **Steve:** _Have Happy send me the info_

 **Tony:** _Yep, come in the morning the day after tomorrow so you can meet the team_

 **Steve:** _Will do, see you then_

 

Steve knew Tony well enough to know that  _ morning _ meant 10 o’clock, which was perfect. The late start would give him time to catch a yoga class and also to do a little more work on the Rumlow case. Natasha would definitely say the stars were aligning or some shit, but she was into crystals and Steve  _ wasn’t _ a hipster, goddammit.

The morning of the meeting, Steve woke early. He poured himself a cup of coffee and decided to lounge on the sofa with his laptop for a bit, and found himself going back to scroll through more photos of Bucky Barnes, smiling to himself whenever he saw something cute which was often until a few months ago. Like when he and his kid sister Becca surprised their Ma with a screening of Wonder Woman at the Anti-Social Cinema Club for Mother’s Day, or the selfie the two of them took with their parents at Becca’s senior night football game at Brooklyn Tech the year before. She was dressed in her blue and white cheerleader uniform and Bucky wore his old letterman’s jacket.

What the hell did this kid ever see in a nutcase like Rumlow?

And if he was being honest, which Steve Rogers was to a fault, Bucky was a grown man. He wasn’t exactly a kid so much as he had a youthful and sweet look to him. Besides, after graduating with a Master’s degree he had to be at least twenty four. Which reminded Steve, he needed to do the standard demographic check still.

Turned out Steve was right. James Buchanan Barnes was from Bed-Stuy, of all places. And wasn’t that one hell of a name, too. He was born March 13th and was indeed in his mid-twenties. Twenty five, to be exact. It made Steve feel like a little better knowing he wasn’t just some  _ kid. _

Bucky graduated honors at NYU with a Master’s Degree in Biomedical Engineering the previous Spring, and had a minor in Mechatronics. And wasn’t that funny. Steve and Bucky had a mutual friend. Sharon Carter, one of the junior executives at Stark Industries that Steve dated briefly went to school with him. Though she was two years ahead of him at University, it seemed they knew each other.

Looking back, Bucky had been an incredibly popular kid in high school and college. It was only toward the end of his senior year at NYU did it look like things changed. At first, friends would post messages playfully accusing him of forgetting about the little people after starting at Stark Industries. Then the comments grew a bit more concerned. Bucky would always reply, blaming his busy schedule or saying how much he missed them too, but it didn’t sit right with Steve.

_ There was something there. _

Steve had a healthy suspicion that Rumlow was responsible. He took a run through Rumlow’s social media again and followed the rabbit hole down to the profile of the greasy bastard named Jack Rollins. 

And just when he thought you couldn’t get any less appealing than Rumlow’s creepy ass, looking through Rollins’ profiles proved Steve wrong. He partnered with Rumlow in their fitness campaigns and the two boasted vaguely about their “secret” celebrity clients on a regular basis.

While Rumlow’s profile was uptight and antagonistic, Rollins was a total Douche-Bro who partied way more than anyone his age should. There was just something about a thirty-something posting his womanizing on social media that was pathetic. 

Wait-

Was that-  _ Rumlow? _

There were multiple short videos of the two partying together. It was difficult to tell at first - what, with the poor lighting and loud music, but Steve recognized  _ that voice. _ The rough grating sound that made his skin crawl when he first spoke to the guy was unmistakable. Steve checked the dates on the posts again. 

They were recent. Like,  _ recent, _ recent. Enough for them to be during the time Rumlow and Bucky were in a relationship, going by what he found earlier. Here Rumlow was accusing Bucky of being unfaithful, and he was hooking up with intoxicated women at nightclubs all over Staten Island. 

Again, and as if it couldn’t possibly be said enough…

_ Fuck Staten Island. _

And fuck this Rumlow bastard. This was the part of Steve’s business he didn’t care for. He much preferred working private security with Happy whenever Tony had his exorbitant events. That was easy, fun  _ and  _ paid well. A triple win, really.

Steve’s phone buzzed and he realized it was time to get ready to meet with Tony’s team. The morning had really gotten away from him. Looking into the Rumlow case, he hadn’t even eaten yet and now he wouldn’t have time for yoga either. 

Steve shut his laptop and rose, stretching the length of his body before bending over fully at the waist to touch the floor. He pressed his head to his knees and breathed deeply. It felt good considering his hunched posture all morning so he stood and did it a few more times for good measure. He ended with a back walkover before stripping and climbing into the shower.


	4. Stark Industries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve may have underestimated the view.

**Stark Industries**

Steve entered the busy lobby on the ground floor and went to see the guard behind the counter. The older man looked up and greeted Steve with a familiar grin.

“How ya doin’ kid?” he asked Steve, shaking his hand enthusiastically.

Steve beamed a big smile back. “I’m doing really good, Stan. How’s the family?”

“Gonna take the Mrs. to Florida next month for our anniversary. You know how she loves it there.”

“I do. I remember her talking about that when I was a kid,” Steve grinned. “Give her my love.”

Steve had known Stan since he was a kid working for the Stark family with his Ma. Sarah had been the nurse and personal caregiver to the woman Steve always knew as Granny Stark. Back then, Stan worked as Howard’s main security detail, so Steve practically grew up in front of him.

In fact, Tony was like a big brother to Steve. Not the loving, protective kind so much at first as the _‘hey, take him with you’_ begrudging type. That eventually grew into a closer bond between the two men, and Tony always came to Steve whenever he needed an extra hand.

Steve slid the temporary card Stan had given him and the elevator doors opened. When he entered, a pleasant voice greeted him from a speaker in the elevator ceiling.

 _‘Welcome, Mr. Rogers,’_ the voice intoned.

“Thanks Jarvis, take me to Tony, please.” he replied, speaking toward the ceiling.

_‘Of course, sir.’_

Steve groaned, Tony and his toys.  

The lift rose swiftly and dinged as it slowed on the 86th floor.

_‘Sir will join you in the conference room shortly.’_

“Thanks, J.”

When Steve stepped out, he took a moment to enjoy the big floor to ceiling windows toward Brooklyn. That was a view he would never tire of.

“Can I help you find something, sir?” someone asked from behind him, interrupting his reverie.

Steve spun and was faced with none other than Bucky Barnes and his piercing gray eyes. Bucky Barnes and his killer smile. Bucky Barnes and his jaw cut from marble. Bucky Barnes and his longish brown hair, thick and full and barely tucked behind his ears. Bucky Barnes and his six feet of lithe, agile muscle all wrapped up in a slim-cut suit.

The pictures didn’t do him justice. Bucky blinked at Steve and cocked his head to the side the tiniest bit.

Steve’s brain came back online and helpfully supplied him with the information that while he’d been staring, he hadn’t answered the question.  

“Steve,” Steve blurted, and stuck out his hand to Bucky, which he took curiously. “Sorry, uh- I’m Steve, here for the security meeting with Tony and Happy.”

_Way to go, Rogers. Real smooth._

Bucky shook Steve’s hand politely and shot him a grin, the corner of one side of his lips twisting up in a little smirk of amusement.

“Good to meet you. I’m Bucky.”

There was a moment of awkward silence and Steve couldn’t help but notice the light blush that rose to Bucky’s cheeks when they held eye contact a just beat too long. Bucky shifted on his feet and ran a hand through his hair. A beautiful hand. A hand that Steve would have loved to sketch.

“I’m uh,” he motioned behind himself. “I’m headed the same way, if you wanna-”

“Yeah, thanks,” Steve interrupted.

He ducked his head and rubbed at the back of his neck out of an old nervous habit as they walked quietly to the large conference room. When they entered, Happy had just finished handing out packets of information to the group and looked up to see Steve.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” he teased, pulling him into a big bear-hug. “It’s about damn time I see your ugly face again, Rogers.”

Steve took the ribbing and groaned as he was squeezed and clapped Happy on his back. He didn’t miss the curious look Bucky shot him as he slid quietly into his seat and opened his folder.

“Grab a seat. We were just getting warmed up,” he nodded to the empty seat across the table from Bucky. “Everyone? This is Steve Rogers. He’s running point on security with Maria and I.”

Steve nodded to the room in general, recognizing many of the others from working Tony’s past events. Maria, in particular smiled widely when their eyes met and Steve shot her a wink. They’d always worked well together. It was nice to see she was still on Happy’s team.

“Those of you who don’t know Rogers,” Happy gestured toward the interns, “if he says to do something, just do it. Don’t ask questions. Got it?”

Steve chanced a look across the table in Bucky’s direction. He smiled back from behind his hair and ran his hands through it again. It seemed like a nervous little habit. That much was confirmed by the way he looked away and back down at his folder like it was the most interesting packet of papers on earth.

The young brunette woman seated next to Bucky caught the exchange and grinned as she cleared her throat much more obviously than was necessary.

“Don’t scare my evil minions, Happy,” Tony teased as he entered the conference room in true Stark fashion. He touched something on his tablet that made shit fly up into the air in the middle of the conference table. “This is the layout  of the hall we’re in. I’m presenting here on day one, and here on the final day,” Tony listed as two different sections of the map glowed in red.

“The standard venue security has been instructed not to allow anyone access without their pass, which will probably be a classy little piece of paper hanging on a lanyard.” Tony grabbed a box from a shelf on the podium in the corner of the room. He began by tossing the silicone bands across the room to each person. “Luckily, we’re a little higher tech than that. You won’t be permitted in any of our booths or backstage in my area without this being scanned first. Do yourself a favor and _don’t_ lose it.”

Tony slid one of the simple bands around his wrist and motioned to Happy. He held his wrist up for Happy to scan, and the silicone band glowed blue, causing the device in Happy’s hand to beep. He ran through a few more items on the agenda, and then Happy took over again.

“Interns, you’ll be working with Rogers directly on the transportation and setup of the equipment.”

Steve met Bucky’s eyes again and nodded in a friendly way. Next to him sat the young woman who had taken pleasure teasing the kid. On her other side was someone who looked like he might be an _actual_ kid.

Once the meeting finished, Steve stood to greet Tony properly. He hugged the smaller man, and blushed lightly at the big-brother style teasing that came along with them finally meeting again after so many months.

“Minions,” Tony called across the room to the trio of interns. “I give them a hard time, but I really do know their names,” Tony grinned, cuffing Bucky on the shoulder. “This is Bucky Barnes, my head intern,” Tony began. “Some may call him my left hand, since Pep’s already my right one.”

Steve reached out for Bucky’s hand again. “We’ve met,” he nodded, and thankfully he had his shit together that time.

Tony cocked a curious brow. “You two know each other?”

“Yeah, we go way back. All the way to the elevator, right?” Bucky teased, and Steve had a hard time not staring at his lips as they quirked up in another little smirk.

_Focus, Rogers._

“This beautiful brain here is Wanda Maximoff. She’s with us on a work-study program from Sokovia, and one of the brightest I’ve had on staff yet,” Tony beamed. “The kid is Peter Parker. He graduated early from MIT, just like yours truly.”

“How early?” Steve asked, dreading the thought of having to watch over a _kid_ in Vegas.

“Two years, sir,” Peter answered, trying to look and sound older than he was.

Steve tried to hide the way he died a little inside by being called ‘sir’.

Wanda must have read Steve’s mind.

“Not to worry, we are both twenty two.”   

Steve visibly relaxed and Bucky huffed a little laugh. The kid didn’t miss much.

“I trust you will all do your jobs first and foremost. Just don’t forget to have fun. It is _Vegas,_ after all.” Tony teased, and winked in the direction of a tall strawberry blonde as she entered the room.

“Steve!” Pepper called softly and approached him with a hug. “I’m so happy you’re coming with us.”

He kissed her cheek and hugged her back, “Wouldn’t miss it.”

***

Steve focused on the case for the six days until the trip. During that time, he watched Bucky come and go as predicted. Twice, Rumlow showed up outside of the Tower unannounced. Once was during lunch and the other after work.

Each time, there was a noticeable change in Bucky’s demeanor. Bucky would almost cower in deference and Rumlow would grab him roughly by the arm and pull him aside to interrogate him. The sight of it caused a pit of anger in Steve’s stomach to twist. He almost blew his cover and intervened the second time, but the two men seemed to resolve their issue just before Steve approached them.

The day they were set to leave, Steve arrived at the Tower promptly at noon to oversee the loading of equipment into the vans bound for the airport. When he got there, he was surprised to see the drastic change in Bucky’s demeanor. He was quiet and withdrawn. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he looked as though he hadn’t slept in days.

“You doin’ okay, Bucky?” Steve asked once they were alone in the front of the van.

They headed in the direction of the private terminal at Teterboro. As Steve drove, he kept his eyes on the road in front of them so Bucky wouldn’t feel too put on the spot.

“Uh, yeah. I’m good,” Bucky answered in a tone just this side of too cheerful. Steve let it go and focused on the road, but after a few moments of quiet, Bucky continued. “Sorry, just had a rough few days. Not much sleep. I’ll be fine, though.”

Steve nodded. He wanted the kid to be comfortable with him and felt bad for bringing up the elephant in the room.

“Anything I can help with?”

Steve watched in his peripheral vision as Bucky shot a little self-deprecating grin out the window and shook his head to himself. “Nah, thanks though. It’ll pass. Always does.”

“So, how long have you been working with Tony?” he tried again after a few minutes, hoping for a change of direction.

Bucky grinned and sat up a bit straighter. He looked proud. It was a good look on the kid.

“I graduated from NYU this past May and started full time, but I’d already been working at SI for almost a year. You should’a seen my Ma’s face when I told her I’d been brought up to head intern.”

“I’ll bet your folks are proud.”

That worked, there was more of a light back in the kid’s eyes. He took a deep breath and rubbed his palms on his thighs.

“How about you? Have you known Tony long? It seems like you guys go way back.”

Steve grinned, “That’s putting it mildly. I pretty much grew up in Stark Mansion. My Ma was Granny Stark’s nurse.” Steve shrugged, “I was always the little pain in the ass that tagged along for everything. Drove Tony nuts. Must have finally grown on him, though, ‘cause he keeps bringin’ me back.”     

Bucky laughed, _“Little_ pain in the ass? I can’t see you ever being little, I mean…” Bucky waved his hand up and down in Steve’s general direction. “You’re huge!”

“Uh, yeah,” Steve blushed in embarrassment.

Bucky’s eyes grew wide when he realized he said what he said. It was an immediate change, and he shrank back into himself.

“Sorry, that was inappropriate,” he apologized quietly.

“No, don’t worry about it.” Steve reassured Bucky, heat coloring his cheeks. Something about the way Bucky demurred so quickly bothered Steve, and he needed to make sure they were okay. “It’s fine. I get that a lot, actually.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I was a sickly kid, so I spent a lot of time with my Ma while she took care of Granny Stark.” He shrugged, “Believe it or not, I was 5’4” and barely a hundred pounds until I was nineteen. Late bloomer, I guess.”

Bucky’s phone went off and the gloomy cloud returned in his expression. His brow furrowed and he texted something rapidly in response before he shoved his phone back into his pocket. Not a minute later it went off again then rang with a voice call. Bucky took his phone back out and hesitated, looking at the screen.

“You need to take that?” Steve asked gently as Bucky sent the call to voicemail.

He shook his head no and went to put it back in his pocket as it rang again. Bucky took a deep breath and declined the call before turning his phone off completely. The silence in the van grew heavier as Bucky shrank back in the seat and stared quietly out the window the rest of the way to the airport.

Steve had hoped he was imagining it, but he swore he saw Bucky swipe at his eyes a time or two. He took pity on the kid and turned the radio on so they could ride the rest of the way without any more small talk. The familiar pit in Steve’s stomach twisted. He figured he knew who was on the other end of the calls and text messages, given the dark circles under Bucky’s eyes and the way he reacted to the phone.

_Fucking Rumlow._

They arrived at the terminal and Steve checked in with the guard at the gate. Bucky passed over the flight itinerary and paperwork, and the guard returned the documents and opened the gate for them to enter. Once the van was parked and shut off, Steve opened the back for Peter and Wanda.

“You guys alive back here?” he teased, knowing they rode in better luxury than he and Bucky had up front.

Peter climbed out first, eager to take in the airport. He looked up at the jet they parked next to and turned back to Wanda and Bucky with excitement in his eyes.

“This is so cool!”

Peter snapped a few photos with his phone before he shoved it back into his pocket to help with the equipment. Wanda grabbed her tablet and checked off the crates one by one before they were moved from inside the van. There was a rigorous protocol to follow and nobody wanted to be responsible for missing Stark tech.

“We can unload it now,” she nodded, sliding the tablet back into her bag and exiting the van.

Peter climbed back into the van and began pulling out crates for transfer to the jet. He handed Steve one, then turned to get another off the stack, surprised to see Steve there waiting for more.

“Pile ‘em on, kid. I got two hands,” Steve instructed, and Peter stacked another heavy crate on top of the first.

Bucky also took two crates. It was a might bit more difficult for him, though he’d never admit that to the free press.

Wanda reached up next. “One at a time for me, Peter. I don’t have anyone to impress,” she teased.

Bucky shot her a look over his shoulder, which only made her giggle louder. Peter took the last crate and the only thing left was the luggage. After that was out, Steve parked the van around the front of the private terminal where there was a small lot.

On his walk back to the plane, he heard a familiar name before he rounded a corner so he stopped.

“Please, Brock. I’m getting on a plane in a few minutes. I don’t want to do this right now.”

It was Bucky, and he sounded completely beat down. Steve froze where he was. He didn’t want to barge into a sensitive conversation, but he also didn’t want to stand there an eavesdrop, either.

“I _wasn’t._ No, I already told you it’s not-”

Another silence.

“Yeah,” he said softer. Then, “I’m sorry, I mean _yes.”_

Steve’s jaw literally dropped. Did Rumlow actually correct Bucky’s grammar?

“Brock, I… Look, I’m sorry, I really have to go. We’re about to take off.  Can we please just talk about this later?”

Another awkward silence, then the same little sniffling sound as in the van earlier. He heard Bucky shudder a breath but then he spoke firmer, with more confidence.

“No. Look, I can’t keep doing this... If that’s what you want, then maybe that’s what we should do… _Yes,_ I do mean it. I told you I don’t wanna do this anymore.” His voice wavered at the end but he sounded like he was trying to be strong. “Are you there? Brock?”

Steve heard Bucky sniffle and sigh again before he cleared his throat. He could tell he’d just been hung up on but was trying to put on a brave face.

“Are you ready?” Steve heard Wanda call softly. Steve tried to turn back to the van but then her voice was closer. “Hey, are you okay?”

“It’s over,” Bucky answered in a small voice. “I told him I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” her soft accent comforted. “But I’m proud of you. You deserve so much better though, you have to remember that.”

“Thanks Wanda.”

“Steve!” Peter called, popping up from around the corner of the building in a hurry and about startling Steve half to death as they collided.

“Jesus, Peter!” he yelled a little more gruffly than was deserved. He didn’t realize how irritated he’d gotten with listening to Rumlow being nasty to Bucky. “Oh god, sorry. You scared the shit outta me,” he laughed, trying to make light with Peter.

“I forgot my tablet in the van. I just have to grab it. Can I have the keys?” Peter asked.

Steve handed Peter the keys and rounded the corner to head to the tarmac, bumping right into Bucky and Wanda.

“Oh- sorry. Hey guys.”

Wanda looked between Steve and Bucky for a moment then squeezed Bucky’s arm before she walked away. Bucky dropped his head and stared at his feet for a moment. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

“How much did you hear?” he demanded, uncharacteristically dark and defiant gray eyes meeting Steve’s.

Steve wanted to turn around and run for the hills. The last thing he wanted to do was to face that look. The beautiful light gray he first met and the sweet smile he’d seen in so many photos gave Bucky a light and beauty that was all but gone. What remained was a hardened, cynical expression that didn’t belong there at all.

“I uh- I didn’t want to interrupt or anything. You know...” Steve stammered, rubbing the back of his neck again.

Bucky’s eyes fell. He shrugged a shoulder and huffed a humorless smirk.

“Would’a done me a favor.”  

Steve didn’t know what to say so he stood gaping like a fish as he watched Bucky turn and follow Wanda to the jet. He snapped his jaw shut, and Bucky walked into Wanda’s arms for a hug before the two boarded the plane.

“He’ll be alright. That’s been coming for a while now,” Peter said from just behind Steve, making him jump again.

He looked at the kid with as much kindness as he could muster in the moment and slung a heavy arm around the kid’s neck. “You keep sneakin’ up on me I’m gonna put a goddamned bell around your neck, Parker.”

Peter laughed and handed Steve back the keys for the van. Since the opportunity arose, Steve tried for a little background.

“Has it happened before?”

Peter looked up at Steve, judging his intent. He must have decided Steve was okay, because he shrugged the slightest bit and nodded.

“Just never this bad. Bucky’s a really good guy. He’s crazy smart and cares a lot about people, but he needed to get away from Brock. The guy’s bad news.”

Steve nodded, and in a tone that made it sound like no big deal he added, “I’ve seen his kind before.”

Peter stopped and turned to Steve, shaking his head. His eyes darted to Bucky and Wanda at the top of the steps to the plane and then back.

“It’s really not my place to say anything, but I think he’s abusive to him.”

Steve raised a brow, which may have been taken as disbelief but was totally intended to get the kid to spill the beans, as it were. It worked, too.

“Not just like, emotionally. Well, I mean, that too. But he’s had, like bruises and stuff? You know what I mean?” Peter confided.

Steve’s jaw set and that twisted pit in his stomach made its disdain for Rumlow _very_ well known again. He was really beginning to hate that man.

“Has he ever shown up? Bothered him at work?” Steve asked carefully, not wanting to scare the kid off by thinking he was ratting his friend out.

Peter’s eyes shot to the plane again before answering. “Waits outside for him sometimes, but he never tells him when he’s gonna show up. The guy creeps me out. I’d never treat someone the way he treats Bucky.”

Steve cuffed Peter on the back of his neck. “Thanks, kid. You seem like a good friend to him.” They headed back toward the plane. “Let’s enjoy the trip, huh? He could probably use his friends right about now.”

That was the last Steve and Peter spoke about Bucky’s _conversation._


	5. Touchdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve Rogers, certifiable idiot.

**Touchdown**

They landed at McCarran in Vegas without incident. Steve had never been afraid of flying, per se, but it was still nice to be on the ground. Wanda stretched before taking her tablet out to inventory the crates, and for a moment Steve was jealous of her small stature. 

After being cramped in a luxurious, but small private jet, he wished he could do a mountain pose right about then. He settled for twisting his spine in his seat and enjoyed the ripple of his back cracking all the way up from his tailbone to his neck. 

“Oh my God, you are going to break yourself!” Wanda grimaced. She shook her shoulders with a shudder. “I hate that sound.”

“This sound?” Peter teased and did the same thing as Steve.

Bucky laughed at the look on Wanda’s face and joined in. He twisted, pushing his stupid-pretty jaw to the side and made his neck crack. 

“Like that?” he grinned.

Wanda held up a hand and closed her eyes. She shook her head and looked like she was about to hurl.

“One day you will all be old and have arthritis. Then I will be the one laughing.” She looked to Peter and motioned with her head to the crates. “It is time to get off your ass.”

“Yes ma’am,” he smirked and she giggled.

Steve turned his phone off of airplane mode and slid it back in his pocket. He was surprised by the number of notifications that kept coming though causing it to vibrate repeatedly, so after loading the crates into the new van, he climbed into the driver's seat and checked his phone.

_ Rumlow. _

 

 **Rumlow:** _Thought I would have heard from you already_

 **Rumlow:** _Could use that update_

 **Rumlow:** _NOW Rogers_

 **Rumlow:** _What the fuck did I pay you for if you won’t even get back to me?_

 

Steve breathed deep and set his jaw. He didn’t want to give the guy anything on Bucky, however he had a job to do. A job he’d already been paid to do, even though his report wasn’t due for almost a week. 

He knew the guy was bad news when he first heard his voice, and that feeling he got about needing the person on the other end to know what was going on was correct. After the convention, he’d have to make time to speak with Bucky about it discreetly, but right now they were all working and Steve didn’t want to upset the kid more.

 

 **SR:**            _Will call you this evening with a report._

 **Rumlow:** _When this evening?_

 

Steve figured that by the time they got everything unloaded and then checked into their rooms, it would be at least 10 pm in New York. But, he  _ did _ say he would call so that was already set.

 

 **SR:**            _Won’t be until 2200 your time_

 **Rumlow:** _My time?_

**SR:** _ Yes I’m out of town _

**Rumlow:** _Don’t fuck with me, Rogers._

 

Steve shook his head. He wasn’t even going to give that comment the decency of a reply. Rumlow could fuck right off.

Bucky watched from the passenger seat. He figured he’d offer since Steve seemed engrossed in whatever conversation he was having via text.

“Do you want me to drive?” 

“What?” Steve replied in a grumble. 

His brow was still furrowed and his jaw was set in anger and disgust with the asshole on the other end of the phone. Bucky saw the look on his face and immediately shrank back into his seat. 

“Sorry.”

Wow, being responsible for that look on the kid’s face made Steve feel like a total piece of shit. He needed to explain, to apologize.

“Hey,” he said softer and reached out quickly to Bucky. He wanted to explain he didn’t mean to snap at him, and that it had nothing to do with him but the movement just made it worse. Bucky jerked farther away from Steve, bumping against the van door. He brought his shoulder up in an automatic defensive response and his eyes grew wide.

“Woah, hey Bucky,” Steve sat back and opened his hands, arms falling lower to show he wasn’t a threat. “I’m… God, I’m really sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you.”

Bucky cleared his throat and tried to recover his pride. He nodded tersely and made a noticeable effort to look relaxed. Even through the effort, he still spoke quieter and wouldn’t meet Steve’s eyes directly.

“I was just… I mean, I can drive? If you want.”

“It’s okay, I got it.” Steve sighed, feeling like a total asshole. He forced a smile, hoping Bucky would look at him. “Thank you though.”

“Sure,” Bucky shrugged. “Just tell me if you want me to help with anything.”

Steve pulled out of the airport loading area and onto the main road that would take them toward the Strip. There were a few minutes of awkward silence, but then he could hear Peter and Wanda in the back of the van when they saw where they were headed. It was Peter, mostly, fawning over the flashy casinos.

He noticed Bucky leaning forward to look toward the Strip too. His eyes widened, taking in all the advertisements for glitz and glamour, fame and fortune. Everywhere promised the best shows, biggest meals and loosest slots. 

“Ever been to Vegas, Buck?” Steve asked, and Bucky shot him a surprised little look laced with a shy smile. The nickname naturally came out. Steve hadn’t  _ planned _ to say it but it just fit.

Bucky’s features relaxed and he settled in more, “No, I’ve always wanted to come for this trade show, though. I could never get a pass when I was in school.”

“What do you think of it so far?”

Bucky chewed on his lip in response for a moment. “It’s odd, everything seems so far apart. I mean there’s like a ton of tall buildings and then… nothing, you know? Just so different from home.”

Steve nodded; he couldn’t help but agree. There was a definite airiness to the wide open space. Even though many of the streets closer to the strip were cluttered with smaller buildings and parking garages, there was still  _ so much desert. _

“Wait until tonight, everything’ll be lit up. Think Times’ Square in the middle of nowhere.”

“I heard there’s roller coasters in some of these,” Bucky nodded toward the casinos. 

Steve cocked a brow, “You a thrill seeker?”

Bucky blushed, then actually met Steve’s eyes with an adorable little smirk. He bit his lip and let his eyes trail down to Steve’s mouth, then back up before he answered.

“I’ve been known to like that kinda thing. You?” 

Steve’s heart jumped up into his throat and his stomach did a little flip. Holy shit, Bucky just flirted with him- and  _ god,  _ the things it did to him.

_ Say something, Steve. _

“Yeah, uh… If you want someone to show you around or somethin’,” Steve stammered. “I’m available, you know, whenever you want me.”

_ Smooth Rogers, real smooth.  _

Bucky huffed a soft laugh at Steve’s pathetic attempt and shot him another sexy little smirk. “I’ve got your number now, so I might just take you up on that.”

How did Steve not think about that? He had everyone’s number and they had his. They were all instructed to text or call him immediately if the needed anything during the convention. And Bucky  _ absolutely _ just opened the door for Steve to text him outside of business, too. 

Just then, Peter decided to slide open the window dividing the front and back of the van. He popped his head out and looked between Steve and Bucky.

“Wanda says we’re going out tonight for drinks on the Strip. You guys wanna come?”

Bucky shot a hopeful look to Steve and turned to Peter. 

“You gonna wear that for a night in Vegas? I can’t be seen with you like that,” Bucky teased and shoved Peter’s face back playfully. He called back to Peter, “I swear, I’m gonna start callin’ you Polo Parker!” 

“I’ll wear whatever you want as long as we hit the Strip, Bucky!” Peter hollered back. “You too, Steve!”

Bucky shrugged and took an exaggerated sigh, “I guess we gotta make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid, huh?”

“Yeah, good luck with that.”

Bucky snorted an adorable laugh, and Steve’s heart did a little flip. He’d do anything to hear that sound again, and see the little crinkle at the corners of those pretty gray eyes. 


	6. Pre-Gaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes Vegas is synonymous with bad decisions. Other times it’s the textbook definition of them.

**Pre-Gaming**

Steve finished overseeing the transfer of the Stark tech for the convention. After that, he made sure the floor the group was staying on was secure. Happy dismissed the team and Steve retreated back to his room for a few minutes to unpack and get settled in.

The view from the window showcased the desert sunset beautifully so he opened the entire wall of curtains. There was something to be said for traveling with Tony. The man certainly didn’t skimp on accommodations.

Steve took a photo of his view and sent it to Sam for no reason other than to be a dick. He knew Sam hated working in subterranean levels all day at the base, but that’s what he got for being in the Air Force. He couldn’t exactly make his own schedule like Steve could. He flopped back on his bed and checked the time, but was interrupted by a reply from Sam.

 

 **Sam:** _You’re an asshole_

 **Steve:** _Ain’t it grand, Sammy?_

 **Sam:** _Yo vanilla ass better party a little for me while you’re there._

 **Steve:** _Going out in a little bit_ ** _:)_**

 

7:12 pm. That made it just after 10 pm in New York. Steve figured he should probably call Rumlow before the guy started blowing up his phone. No sooner did the thought cross his mind than his phone rang.

“Rogers,” he answered.

The voice on the other end of the line was already irritable. 

“Rogers, you got my report ready?”

Steve took a breath. Knowing he was reporting on someone who was more in need of protection than being the subject of an investigation didn’t sit well with him, so he decided to deliver the information with deliberate vagueness.

“So, let me begin by saying usually I observe the subject for two weeks prior to reporting. This is premature, however I have not found any evidence of the subject varying from the stated pattern, per your information.” 

Steve stopped for a moment, letting Rumlow process what he’d given him so far. He didn’t expect him to be happy. He wasn’t. 

“So, you’re telling me I wasted my money on you. Is that what you’re saying?”

Steve shook his head in annoyance. The guy was not making this any easier. 

“No. What I’m saying is there is no evidence that the subject deviated from any of the patterns. There is also no evidence that would suggest the subject is having or has had inappropriate contact with anyone.” 

“I want you to keep following him,” Rumlow ordered. “I know he’s fucking around. You just haven’t seen it yet. I don’t care how much it costs,  _ you stay on him _ until I say otherwise. When are you back in town?”

“I’m afraid I have to decline that request, Mr. Rumlow,” Steve stated firmly. “There have been no deviant patterns observed and I don’t want to charge you for something that won’t produce any results.” 

Steve explained with that perspective, hoping maybe the guy would get it.  _ Technically, _ he didn’t know the two had broken up, but regardless, nothing good would come of Steve continuing to work with Rumlow. He would  _ not  _ help an abusive asshole stalk their ex.

“What are you,  _ deaf? _ I said I don’t care how much it costs! You stay on him.” 

Rumlow was getting more and more irritated as the call went on. Steve was about to respond when a notification flashed with a message from Bucky’s phone. 

“Hang on a minute,” Steve muttered and checked the message. 

A grin spread across his face when he read it. 

 

 **Barnes:** _Steeeve! We’re pre-gaming in Wanda’s room and you’re missing the fun!_

 **Barnes:** _I think Peter Polo needs adult supervision_ ** _;)_**

 

The way Bucky wrote his name made Steve huff a small laugh. It was like talking to Natasha; familiar, and indicative of a fun time. Another message came through from Wanda.

 

 **Maximoff:** _Bucky does not qualify as responsible supervision- we need your assistance LOL_

 

Steve heard Rumlow calling for him in the receiver, and went back to the call. 

“Yes, I’m here.”

_ “Well?  _ What’s the deal? When can you get back to the case?” 

Rumlow clearly didn’t get it. Or maybe he just didn’t  _ want _ to get it. Either way, Steve was going to need to be very specific.

“So, I want to thank you for your business, Mr. Rumlow. Please understand there is nothing further I can offer you.”

“You’re fuckin’ kidding me, right Rogers?”

“No, Mr. Rumlow. I’m not. Have a good day.”

Steve ended the call because it was starting to put him in a bad mood and he had a trio of adorable interns to keep an eye on. He still needed to shower, and if he was looking forward to spending time with them, or one in particular? 

_ Sue him. _

 

 **Steve:** _Just how much pre-gaming have you done, Bucky?_

 

Steve went to the contact info and changed Bucky’s display name from Barnes to  _ Buck. _ He liked it better that way.

 

 **Buck:** _Just a little… waiting for you to come over before I really get going_ ** _;)_**

 **Maximoff:** _Bucky says he’s waiting on tall, blond and gorgeous_

 **Buck:** _OH MY GOD WANDA!!!_

 **Buck:** _I’m so sorry Steve, please ignore her_

 **Maximoff:** _I am innocent! Work is over, time to have fun!_

 **Parker:** _He’s totally blushing now!_

 **Steve:** _We can all go party on one condition._

 **Parker:** _???_

 **Maximoff:** _What condition?_

 **Steve:** _You three need to eat something first. Raid the minibar while I shower real quick._

 

Steve sent another message. His stomach fluttered just a little bit with nerves because this one was just to Bucky.

 

 **Steve:** _Tall and blond I get a lot- but gorgeous, huh?_

 **Buck:** _Do you not own a mirror Steve?_

 

Bucky didn’t deny calling Steve gorgeous, in fact he flirted more. Steve found he liked it a lot and his cheeks flushed warmer at the possibility of Bucky being into him. He hoped it wasn’t just from rebound, but it did great things for his confidence level, that much was certain. Even if it was just rebound, he knew Bucky needed - and deserved - to have a little fun.

 

 **Steve:** _Eat somethin Buck, I think you’re delirious_

 **Buck:** **_;)_**

 

Steve showered quickly, scrubbing away at his naughty bits but not wasting any time. It wasn’t like he was planning on getting laid or anything. Still, it couldn’t hurt to smell good. 

He exited his room, and down the hall he could hear the music coming from Wanda’s room. He knocked on the door and the laughter coming from inside turned to loud shushing. He was greeted by flushed cheeks, a blinding smile and pretty gray eyes. Bucky was still giggling at something Wanda said when he opened the door.

“Steve!” he grinned and bit his bottom lip. 

“Heya, Buck.”

Steve didn’t miss the way Bucky’s eyes trailed appreciatively down his body as he stepped back, allowing him to enter. Steve scanned the room and mentally catalogued the open bottles on the credenza. They were pre-gaming, alright by the looks of it. Shots of Tequila were already going, and there were also a few beers opened.

“Startin’ with the hard stuff, huh Parker?” Steve asked, nodding to the bottle

Peter snorted a laugh in Bucky’s direction. Wanda couldn’t help herself either. Steve was clearly out of the loop.

“No, not me Steve. I’m starting with beer tonight. I think Bucky’s the one that’s got a thing for _ hard stuff.” _

Peter and Wanda collapsed into a fit of giggles on her bed, but the corner behind Steve fell uncharacteristically silent. Steve turned around to see Bucky standing there, wide eyed and slack-jawed, staring in disbelief at his friends. The look on his face was total embarrassment. 

Bucky looked back to Steve and his cheeks pinked even more. Steve could tell the color wasn’t just from the alcohol, so he took pity on the kid and acted like he didn’t get the joke. 

“Really? So how many shots am I behind so far?” he asked cluelessly. 

He shot a wink at Bucky, then poured a shot and salted his wrist, giving Bucky the most seductive eye contact he could muster without feeling like a total dork. Thankfully, this little game was just between then two of them, since he had his back to Wanda and Peter. 

The look must have worked because Bucky’s pretty eyes followed the motion of his mouth on his wrist and he stepped closer. Steve tossed back the shot and followed it with one of the lime wedges. It was good Tequila. Better than he expected, in fact.

“We even yet or I gotta do more?” he asked Bucky with a cocked brow and a smirk.

“You gotta do one more.”

“Cool. You wanna do me the honors?” 

Bucky opened the bottle and poured Steve a shot. When he put the bottle down, Steve stepped even closer and put his hand on Bucky’s. 

“If I’m reading this all wrong, then I need you to stop me, okay?” Steve murmured quietly.

Bucky held his eye contact and nodded as Steve brought his hand gently his lips. Bucky bit his lip again as Steve lightly kissed his palm before he sucked against the soft skin over the pulse point of his wrist.

He smirked up at Bucky through his long lashes and sprinkled salt on his wrist. He met the sensitive skin again, this time with a soft little lick followed by a harder suck. He took the shot and lime wedge and met those pretty eyes in time for Bucky to lean in, cup his jaw and kiss him real soft and sweet. 

“You didn’t read it wrong,” Bucky whispered against Steve’s lips.

Peter sat on the bed next to Wanda, watching with rapt attention, wide-eyed and impressed.

“Holy shit, Steve. Teach me.”

Wanda smacked Peter against his chest and Steve huffed a laugh. He answered but kept eye contact with Bucky. 

“We can do body shots later if you want. Right now didn’t we have some partying to do?”   

No sooner did Steve speak than there was another knock at the door. Bucky answered it and in walked none other than Tony Stark. 

“There you are, Steve. I was hoping I’d find you with the evil threesome.”

Steve nodded at Tony, “What brings you over?”

Tony walked further into the room and smirked knowingly at Peter and Wanda both on the bed. He picked up the bottle of Tequila and shrugged in approval at the brand, then set it back down. It was all a very Tony-like thing to do. Steve grinned in amusement as Bucky watched the show with his head cocked to the side the tiniest bit. He looked like an adorable puppy, but Wanda and Peter looked a little on edge.

“We uh, we thought you said we were done for the evening, Mr. Stark. We haven’t had that much though, if you still needed us,” Peter offered.

Tony stopped. He sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes heavenward like an exasperated parent. 

“I did, you are.”

“Tony?” Steve lead, wanting to see where he was going with the display.    

Tony winked at Steve, “It’s just that the manager of the hotel gave me these exclusive VIP passes to the  _ Eclipse  _ party here at the pool tonight. I was wondering, if  _ perhaps, _ any of you knew four people who felt like partying this evening?”

Tony pulled a gold envelope out of his pocket and passed it over. Bucky’s eyebrows rose and he took the envelope, turning it over and running his fingers along the embossed  _ STARK INDUSTRIES _ on the front. 

“This is _ \- wow -  _ thank you, Tony,” Bucky beamed.

Tony shot Steve another wink, cuffing him on the shoulder. 

“The rave doesn’t begin until ten. You think you more seasoned guys can hang for another couple of hours?”

Steve huffed a laugh, “Sure, old man.” 

“They’re not called raves anymore, are they?”

“Nope,” the room echoed.

Tony shoved his hands back into his pockets, “Well, it’s past my bedtime anyway, the boss says I have to get up early tomorrow. Something about preparing a keynote address and taking her shopping.” 

He gave the room a sloppy salute and shot Steve a look, tilting his head toward the hall.


	7. Exactly Why Steve Rogers Can't Have Nice Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve, why do you do this to yourself?

**Exactly Why Steve Rogers Can’t Have Nice Things**

Steve followed him out and closed the door. Tony turned back to Steve and reached up to pat his cheek affectionately.

“You good, little brother?”

Steve blushed. Tony could always make him feel like a kid.  

“Yeah, I am. Thank you.”

“You know, Bucky’s a real smart kid.”

“Seems like it,” Steve agreed neutrally, but furrowed his brow, waiting to see what Tony was getting at.

“I’m thinking of putting him in charge of a brand new division. An advanced prosthetics line.”

“Oh yeah? I don’t follow…” Steve nodded and furrowed his brow. “I mean, I get it. He seems like a bright kid, but is there a reason you’re telling me all of this?”

Steve blinked and tilted his head curiously. Tony had never really run his HR decisions by him before. There had to be something else he was getting at.

Tony shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. He looked up and down the hall before leaning in and speaking quietly.

“You’ve got the best sense of people out of anyone I know, Steve. Something about his _personal life_ concerns me. I just need to be sure he’s strong enough to handle the pressure. You know,” he shrugged, “not put himself in a position that can compromise very sensitive and proprietary information.”

“Ah, I understand. I’m assuming that kind of inquiry can’t be part of an official background check.”

Tony nodded once.

“What specifically concerns you, hypothetically speaking?”

Tony sighed quietly, clearly uncomfortable with even making-officially-not-making the request.

“It’s his significant other. I don’t trust the guy at all, but I can’t necessarily ask about their home life.”

“Hmm. Too bad there’s no way you could get the kid vetted.”

Tony nodded again, clearly avoiding making any potentially incriminating requests verbally.

Steve knew what Tony wanted, but something in his stomach twisted. He had been happy to be rid of Rumlow, glad to not have Bucky be the subject of an investigation anymore. He’d also come to terms with the reason for that relief. He was interested in the kid on a more-than-professional level. Especially after their chemistry in Wanda’s room.

And now Tony was asking Steve to go backwards, albeit for a much different reason. But Tony was where Steve’s loyalties were. He was family, all the family Steve had left. Steve nodded, confirming he’d do as asked-not-asked. It was too bad, too, because he could still taste Bucky on his lips.

This was exactly why Steve Rogers can’t have nice things.

Tony gave him a quick hug, patting him on the back and quietly thanking him, and left Steve standing in the hall. Steve turned back to Wanda’s door and sighed. He nodded to himself. It was time to get back to work.

Now to figure out how to work this one in without being a total dick and possibly hurting Bucky in the process.

_Fabulous._

“So, we going to Eclipse tonight?” he asked the group as he walked back into the room. The answer was pretty obvious, since Wanda had already pulled out her bikini and was deciding what to wear with it.

“You bring swim shorts, Steve?” Peter asked and he nodded, forcing an excited grin.

“Always. Even in the winter, there’s somewhere to swim here. It’s one of Vegas’ most redeeming qualities.”

Bucky quietly observed, and it looked pretty obvious to Steve that the change in his demeanor wasn’t as clandestine as he hoped it was. The kid was almost hyper-aware of everyone’s behavior around him, and Steve realized that was yet another by-product of Bucky having been in an abusive relationship.

He had to make this right, bring it back into the realm of the fun he left behind not a few moments prior, so he shot Bucky a wink. It was adorable how his cheeks pinked up in response. Maybe there was a way to give Tony what he needed and see where this _thing_ between the two of them would go?

Or maybe it was wishful thinking.

Either way, Steve needed a drink. Well, _another_ drink.

“Who’s ready?” he asked.

Peter popped up off the edge of the bed. “Let’s do this, guys. We’ve never been to Vegas before and I hear the Strip is quite an experience.” He pulled Wanda up by the hand and held on as he looked expectantly at Bucky.

Peter and Wanda were officially a thing.

_Noted._

The early summer heat hit them right in the face the moment they exited the hotel. It was dry and heavy, with little to no breeze, even though it was almost dark. Going to the party at the pool later was more appealing by the minute.

“Does it stay this hot all night?”

Bucky leaned in when he asked Steve as they loosely followed behind Peter and Wanda. He pushed his hair back and moved a little closer to Steve as the crowd thickened.

“Pretty much. This really isn’t that bad.”

Bucky’s eyes danced as he grinned up at Steve, “Good pool weather, yeah?”

Steve couldn’t help but agree. He had just been thinking the same thing.

“Sure is. The party sounds like a lot of fun.”

The look of relief in Bucky’s posture was evident.

“I’m glad you’re coming too.  Didn’t really want to third wheel all night.”

Steve slipped his fingers between Bucky’s and pulled him a little closer.

“Wanna be my plus one, Buck?” he asked as they got on the escalator to go down to street level.

Bucky turned back to Steve and looked up, biting his lip again. He rested his hands on Steve’s hips and squeezed lightly.

“You want me to be your plus one?”

The look in his eyes was clear. He was totally into Steve. It wasn’t planned, and it felt completely natural so Steve cupped Bucky’s jaw and leaned down to kiss him softly.

And damn him straight to hell if he _could_ help it, but he couldn’t. Bucky was beautiful, and bright and sweet and Steve so desperately wanted to see him happy. He’d figure out how to get Tony what he needed _later._ At the moment, he was busy.

The four of them had fun being tourists. They took silly photos with the replicas of ancient Roman statues at the Venetian, and then they went to the Coca-Cola store and tried sodas from the around the world platter. They laughed and made up their own names for some of the flavor combinations, barely managing to not puke when they tasted _the Beverly._

There were plenty of costumed street performers to get photos with, and Peter couldn’t resist any of them. They even managed to get a photo of Captain America and Spiderman together. Wanda and Peter had a debate, her insisting that the two would never work together in the comic-verse. Bucky snorted and reminded her they were just fictional characters, okay Wanda?

Steve checked the time and suggested they head back to get ready for Eclipse. When they arrived back to Wanda’s room, which seemed to be their home base, Peter cracked open another beer. He offered one to Steve, who gratefully accepted. Bucky and Wanda also had beers, and Bucky grabbed the tequila.

“Anyone want another?”

Peter and Wanda both declined, holding up their beers. Steve tilted his head in consideration. He was feeling a little reckless, and he decided to silence the rational voice in the back of his head.

_That voice was no fun._

“Since it’s just you and I, you wanna take that to my room?” Steve nodded to the bottle.

Bucky shot Wanda a look and she nodded before pulling Peter in for a kiss. When they separated, she sighed in feigned annoyance that Bucky and Steve were still there.

“You guys have fun with that. We’ll meet you downstairs at ten.”

“Yeah, okay.” Bucky grinned bashfully at Steve. “We’ll see you then. Don’t be late,” he teased.

Steve grabbed the bags of salt packets and lime slices, then laced his fingers with Bucky’s. He pulled him out of the room, closing the door securely behind them. He held the bags in his teeth and grabbed the key-card from his back pocket, not letting go of Bucky’s hand.

Once inside, Bucky leaned in to kiss Steve. It began hesitant and soft, a gentle press of their lips. Steve kissed back lightly. He felt the soft fanning of Bucky’s breath against his mouth, the unsure invitation for more.

That no-fun voice in the back of Steve’s mind reminded him that he shouldn't be putting either of them in that position, but he couldn’t find it in himself to turn away. Bucky was too beautiful _not_ to kiss, and his lips were warm and soft and made Steve’s heart thud furiously against his chest. So Steve took over, deepening the kiss and running his fingers through Bucky’s hair.

The kiss grew more heated and their tongues brushed against each other, teasing, tasting. and Steve _wanted,_ god how he wanted. He kissed down Bucky’s jaw, then lower to his neck. He held him close and gently nipped against his neck.

“Steve,” Bucky gasped and wrapped his arms around the width of Steve’s strong back.

Steve kissed back up to Bucky’s mouth and sucked gently at his plush lips. He nibbled against the bottom one and gave it a soft tug with his teeth. Then when he had Bucky really open to him, nice and pliant in his arms, he reached back and wrapped one arm around Bucky’s waist to keep him close, and the other hand cupped Bucky’s jaw.

“God Buck, you’re so damn beautiful, you know that?” he murmured against Bucky’s mouth and Bucky whimpered. Steve pulled back to look into his eyes. “So sweet, so pretty. You have any idea how lucky a guy I am that you want this with me?”

Steve didn’t want there to be any misunderstanding between them about what he meant, so he pulled Bucky’s hips against him and ground their erections against each other. Both of them were achingly hard and the movement made Bucky’s breath hitch. There was a begging look in Bucky’s eyes and it would have been so easy to just go with it.

There were very few things in the world Steve wanted more at the moment than to bury himself deep inside Bucky. One of those things, though, was to get _more_ of him. Steve wanted Bucky, yes, but he didn’t just want his body. He didn’t want to settle for only this, whatever this was, happening in the heat of the moment and after shots and beers.

Call Steve crazy, but he wanted what was on the inside, too. He knew he wouldn’t be able to truly get there if he went the easy route. So he kissed him again, softer then chaste, before stepping back. He kissed his cheek and ran his fingers absently along Bucky’s hairline.

But to Bucky, it felt like a no, which made him nervous- like he’d done something wrong. He didn’t want to disappoint Steve so he leaned up, and kissed him more insistently.

“I can be good for you, Steve,” he begged. He palmed his length and pulled a low growl out from Steve with the way he squeezed just right. “Just let me… I can make you feel good.”

It took a dose of willpower the size of Texas, but Steve did it. He pulled back and moved out of Bucky’s grasp, breathing harder because of how much his body wanted to let Bucky go on.

“Bucky,” he panted. “No, wait sweetheart... You _are_ good. You’re _so damned good,_ that’s why I gotta stop.”

Bucky shrank back in on himself and looked down. He tensed and waited for Steve to blow up at him, or send him away, or something - anything. Finally, in a small voice, he spoke.

“I don’t understand.”

Steve moved to the foot of the bed and sat. He reached a hand up slowly so Bucky could track his movements, and motioned for him to follow.

“C’mere, Buck. Can you sit with me, please?”

Bucky peered carefully at Steve as he pat the bed, and slowly moved closer. He sat next to Steve, leaving a few inches of space between them so they didn’t touch and folded his hands in his lap. His posture was complete submissive deference.

“M’sorry,” he tried, quietly apologizing.

The apology fell from his lips easily. It was his go-to whenever he was nervous. At work, he could be sure. He knew his stuff, and had the confidence in his intelligence and ability. Outside of that, in intimate situations? Not so much anymore.

Steve reached up again to reassure Bucky and brush his hair back, but only managed to make him flinch reflexively.

“Hey, sweetheart, it’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt you. God, Buck, I would _never_ hurt you like that.”

Bucky’s breathing ran a little shallower and faster, and Steve could tell he was anxious. He took a moment, trying to figure out what to do next. He didn’t want to spook Bucky, but he also wanted to help him understand where he was coming from.

He cocked his head and put both hands palms down on his thighs so Bucky could see where they were.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

Bucky shrugged lightly and shook his head, the false cheer creeping back into his voice. It made Steve’s gut twist and he wanted to hunt down that asshole Rumlow and beat him within an inch of his life for doing this to Bucky.

“Why are you afraid of me?”

Steve was about a million percent sure he knew the answer, but he wanted - no - _needed_ to give Bucky the opportunity to say it himself. In a perfect world, Steve shouldn’t know anything about Rumlow or Bucky’s past with him. But he did. And the world wasn’t perfect. Rumlow was living, breathing proof of that.

Bucky was silent for a moment. Steve watched as he opened his mouth to answer, but then shut it, not saying a word. He was almost sure he was going to deny it, play it off like a misunderstanding, but then Bucky surprised the daylights out of him.

“I’m afraid you won’t want me.”

It was Steve’s turn to open his mouth and have nothing come out.

“How would- I mean... Why would you ever think that?” Steve asked incredulously.

Bucky turned to him. He met his eyes briefly, then demurred, the usually pretty gray color dark and troubled. He folded his hands together, then tightened the grip he had on his fingers nervously.

“I’m not… um,” he sighed and cleared his throat. “I don’t always say the right thing. And... I guess I mess things up, a lot?”

Steve’s brow furrowed and he shook his head.

“See?” Bucky asked, like Steve’s expression confirmed what he just said. He shrugged. “Like now- you don’t look happy. And I- I must have misunderstood, you know… Why you brought me here with you? I messed this up.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Buck. You didn't mess anything up.” He slowly slid his hand over to cover Bucky’s and pulled his fingers out of their knotted ball. “I wanted you to come here with me because I like you. _A lot,_ actually, and I wanna get to know you more. I mean, you’re beautiful, and sexy as hell. But that’s not just it. I wanna get to know more of what’s in here. Wanna get to know what’s in here, too.”

Steve carefully lifted his hand to Bucky’s chest, indicating his heart. Then he lifted his finger to Bucky’s forehead, encouraged when he didn’t pull back at the movement.   

“You’re so much more than just some hot guy to hook up with in Vegas.”

Bucky grinned and bit his lip while blushing adorably at being call hot. Steve huffed a laugh and felt heat rise to his own cheeks, too.

“You think I’m hot?”

“Do you not own a mirror, Buck?”

Bucky turned to push playfully at Steve’s shoulder for using his own line against him and Steve leaned in and brushed a soft kiss against his lips.

“Come on, we should get changed. I have a date tonight for a pool party. I don’t wanna keep my date waiting.”


	8. Eclipse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fuck logic, okay?

**Eclipse**

Steve and Bucky met Peter and Wanda downstairs. Steve, though he tried to be a mature fucking adult, took advantage of their attire and happily trailed his eyes across Bucky’s exposed clavicle and arms, even though he was a bit covered by the tank he wore with his shorts. The natural lean muscle accentuated his long frame. He really was beautiful. 

The foursome made their way to the pool, and they saw a few of the others from Stark’s team. They were dressed for an evening on the town and stood talking and laughing by the bar. Maria was the first to wave them over.

“You four look like you’re up to no good,” she called from where she and Sharon, the tall blonde junior executive were enjoying a drink.

Steve kissed both women on their cheeks in greeting. Bucky tensed a bit and Steve caught the change in his posture out of the corner of his eye. He looked unsure with the interaction between Steve and the two women. Then, when Wanda and Peter wandered over to a slot machine, he stood quietly like he didn’t belong. Which Steve thought was just odd, because these were  _ his  _ people, too.

“Maria, you’ve met Bucky before, right?” he asked

Steve deliberately pulling Bucky into the conversation. He kept hold of his hand until Bucky moved into the circle and then he casually wrapped his arm around Bucky’s waist and held his hip lightly.

Maria smiled brightly and reached out for Bucky’s hand. 

“I’ve seen you around at some of Tony’s events but I think this is our first official introduction. It’s nice to meet you, Bucky.”

“Nice to meet you, too.”

“Bucky’s in charge of our intern team,” Sharon added before she stepped across the group to hug Bucky.

“Oh yeah?” Maria asked curiously, her eyes flicking from Sharon back to Steve’s hand around Bucky’s waist.

“Yup. He’s a real bright guy. Did you know he actually majored in Biomedical Engineering?” she asked Steve. Then, she nudged Bucky’s arm. “Mechatronics was only your minor, and look how far you’ve already gone with that.” 

Bucky blushed, looking down at his feet. Steve knew, of course, from his investigation but he had to feign surprise. It was actually easy to play off though, considering he was genuinely impressed by Bucky’s intelligence. 

“Really? That’s amazing, Buck. Real cutting edge stuff, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Bucky ran his hand through his hair in that little way he had. He nodded with his jaw to the tall blonde, “Sharon and I had a couple of classes together at NYU my Sophomore year. It was nice to connect with her again when I started at S.I.” 

Sharon shook her head and snorted an amused laugh. She shook her head and widened her eyes at Bucky. 

“Nice is an interesting way to put it. You saved my ass with the AIM project, Barnes.”

Bucky laughed and shot a smirk back at Sharon with a little shrug, “Well… You almost had it.”

Steve beamed at Bucky. His confidence was back and his posture was more relaxed. 

“Hey are you guys coming sometime this year?” Wanda asked.

She came up next to Bucky and poked him in the side. The nudge made him squawk indignantly from being tickled. Steve filed the information away for a later and much more private setting. 

“Wanda!” he chided, embarrassment coloring his cheeks. 

Wanda couldn’t contain her laughter. She tried, and failed, turning her face into Peter’s bare shoulder to stifle it. Steve laughed too. He pulled Bucky closer and kissed his temple. 

“If you’ll excuse us, ladies.”

The moment they exited the hotel to the enormous pool area, the music and lights were everywhere. The bass was thumping to the point it could be felt reverberating in their chests. Bucky tightened his hold on Steve’s hand as he was lead through the crowds, and if Steve was being honest, his chest puffed out at the display. He brought Bucky’s hand up to his lips to press a soft kiss against it and shot him a wink as they headed for the VIP area, which included a bar area roped off by lights. The entrance for it was staffed by someone who checked their tickets, and put gold colored bands around their wrists.

Steve ordered two shots of Casamigos and a couple of beers for he and Bucky. They found a cabana the perfect size for the four of them with a great view of the action. There were beautiful people everywhere, scantily clad in swimsuits and glowing accessories.

Peter and Wanda met them at the cabana. Wanda had her hands full of gaudy glowing crap. Her loot ranged from bracelets to wands to necklaces. She passed out goodies to Steve and Bucky, and put one of the necklaces on Bucky’s head like a headband. 

It was adorable, if you asked Steve. Peter arrived right behind her, carrying their drinks, which were, of course in glowing plastic cups. Steve looked around at his new friends; sweet, beautiful Bucky and the two younglings. He was grateful that he’d come on the trip and happy to get to know them, so he raised his beer and waited for the others to join. 

“Okay, so my Ma would have my head if I didn’t toast to this evening, so here goes,” he began, keeping one arm wrapped loosely around Bucky’s waist. The fingers of his free hand continued to trace little circles against the soft skin of Bucky’s back, just under his tank. He turned and with sincere eyes, began.

“To Bucky, who lights up every room he walks into with his intelligence, kindness and beauty. To Wanda, whose carriage and confidence is something we all can aspire to have. To Peter, whose genuine excitement for new experiences reminds us to not take life for granted. To Tony, who has been a big brother to me most of my life and has blessed me with new friends. And lastly to my Ma, God rest her soul, and our Irish roots that taught us to toast well. May you never forget what is worth remembering, nor ever remember what is best forgotten.”   

“Here, here!” Peter laughed as they all clinked their drinks together.

Wanda nodded, “Well said, Steve.”

Bucky softly murmured, “Salute,” and took a drink. 

Peter pulled Wanda up and over to the area where party-goers were dancing. That was the last they saw of the two for a while. When Bucky and Steve were alone again, Bucky put their beers down and leaned in to press a teasing kiss to Steve’s lips. 

“Better watch it Rogers, you’ll make a guy catch feelings talkin’ like that.” 

“Meant every word…” he murmured into the kiss and trailed his fingertips lightly down Bucky’s chest to the low neckline of the tank. “Didn’t you know ‘s a cardinal sin for an Irishman to lie in a toast?” 

Bucky pulled back and snorted an adorable laugh, “You’re such a punk.”

“You know you like it, jerk,” Steve gowled into Bucky’s mouth, deepening the kiss as he pressed him back on the chaise.

Bucky’s arms wrapped around Steve. He grabbed hold of the muscle at the small of his back and squeezed. When Steve slid a leg between Bucky’s thighs, he let out a small whimper into Steve’s mouth.

“Fuck, Stevie,” he groaned, kissing him hotly and squirming beneath him. He rutted up against Steve’s thigh. “You can’t do this to me.”

The nickname  _ did things _ to Steve, but Bucky pretty much told him to stop, so he sat back. He met Bucky’s eyes carefully, concerned that he’d been too forward, considering their conversation upstairs. It was just hard to keep his lips off of Bucky, was all. Even though everything logical was telling him to stop, _ (and fuck logic, okay)  _ he kept finding himself in the same position. But this time it was Bucky pulling back. 

“I’m sorry, Buck. You’re right.”

“No, that’s not-” Bucky moved to sit up with him. 

He adjusted his swim trunks, then crawled into Steve’s lap, straddling his thighs. It was an obvious clarification that he was still good with their physical closeness. Bucky held onto Steve’s broad shoulders and grinned down at him, biting his lip and looking like the most sexy thing he had ever seen. 

“It’s just, you can’t go gettin’ me all hard here. We’re at a pool party, Stevie, and this undershirt ain’t gonna help he out.” 

And good lord… The way Bucky’s graceful neck met his collarbone; it was the perfect level for Steve to lick against and nibble at the sensitive skin… 

_ Shit, focus Rogers. _

“Wanna go cool off in the water?” Steve asked, nodding down to their laps.

Bucky pursed his lips and looked over at the two full shot glasses on the small table next to them. 

“You kinda already got me in a way, here. And you  _ did _ say body shots were later…” 

He reached over and grabbed the salt shaker and dangled it teasingly.

“That I did.”

Steve took the salt from Bucky and pulled him in closer with his other hand. He reached out and licked at the little strip of skin that had been teasing him right over Bucky’s collar bone. He pressed a hot kiss against it and grinned as Bucky’s head dropped back on a sigh before he turned and grabbed one of the shots. The movement made Steve want to grab Bucky by the hips and pull him down flush against his erection.

“Might need this.”

Steve smirked up at him and sucked a mark against the soft flesh. He sprinkled the skin with salt and licked again before he tossed back the shot. When he went to take the lime, Bucky was holding it between his teeth. Steve grinned predatorily up at him and bit against the lime, spilling juice between their mouths then cleaning it up with a deep, open mouthed kiss. 

_ “Wow,”  _ Bucky breathed against Steve’s lips when they parted. “My turn?” 

“Anything you want, sweetheart.”

Bucky stood and pushed Steve back so he was laying against the chaise in that half-reclined position. He picked up his shot and gave it to Steve to hold for him, then slid down his lap a bit so he was straddled halfway between Steve’s hips and knees. 

Bucky held the salt shaker and arched a cocky brow at Steve. He bent down to lick a stripe all the way up his sternum, between his pecs and ended at the little hollow between his collar bones with a soft kiss. He looked up at Steve through his eyelashes and saw how his brow furrowed and his lips were parted just a bit. The look of want on his face gave Bucky the confidence he needed to keep going. 

He did it again in reverse, then sprinkled the salt at the base of Steve’s sternum. That time he sucked harder against the inside and bottom of the muscle of his right pec. Bucky sat back and took his shot and crawled seductively up to Steve’s mouth for his lime. 

When he got there, Steve sat up and pulled Bucky’s hips firmly against his pelvis, squeezing possessively. Bucky bit his lime and tossed the peel, kissing Steve deeply. When they parted, Steve panted and kissed against Bucky’s throat and down to his mark. He ran his fingertips down the length of Bucky’s spine, causing him to shiver and sigh.

_ “Jesus, _ Buck. Here you were worried about me gettin’ you hard and I’m about to come in my shorts like a fuckin’ teenager.”   

Bucky blinked down at him innocently and grinned like the little shit Steve was finding out he could be. He pecked him sweetly on the lips and climbed off of Steve’s lap, grabbing their beers as he did so. Steve fell back against the chaise and ran his hands through his own hair. Not out of nerves, as was Bucky’s habit, but in sheer frustration. 

Bucky carefully flopped back down next to Steve and turned to his side. 

“So, Stevie. Tell me about yourself. I know you’ve known Tony forever, but what do you do when you’re not working with him?”

Oh. What else did Steve do?

_ If that wasn’t that a boner killer… _


	9. That Guy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter where you may or may not actively face-palm yourself.

**That Guy**

“I uh, I’m an artist,” Steve began.

He was carefully choosing what to disclose at the moment. It kind of felt like lying, but he really didn’t think it was the time or place for that talk. Steve tried to convince himself he wasn’t a cowardly piece of shit, and Bucky’s reaction helped distract him from that fact.

“Really?” Bucky perked up with his eyes bright. “Like a graphic artist?”

“Sometimes… I mean, I did the logo for Tony. Usually I stick to painting and drawing.”

“Is there anything I would have seen?”

Steve blushed a little, “Ever been by the Bushwick Collective?”

Bucky’s eyes widened, “I love that place!”

Steve laughed. He could feel his blush deepening.

“I have two there.”

“Where else?”

Steve reached back and rubbed behind his neck. “Uh, there’s this place called the the Invisible Dog over in Boerum Hill. I’ve sold quite a few smaller works there.”

“That’s really cool.” Bucky laid back against Steve’s shoulder and sipped his beer. “I remember when I first really noticed there was like, this culture of art in Brooklyn. My classmates and I stopped in at Joe’s Pizza. You know, the one over in Williamsburg?”

Steve nodded. He loved that one too. It was done so well, what with the black and white likeness of The Champ and the colorful abstract design in the background.

“You didn’t do that too, did you?”

“No,” Steve laughed. “I wish. That one’s really great. It’s near the studio where I studied as a kid.”  

“You studied art as a kid?”

“Self-defense. Boxing and Jiu Jitsu, actually. Remember I was tiny?”

“Ah,” Bucky nodded. He cocked a brow and snuggled into Steve’s side, running a hand lightly down his chest and abs before wrapping his arm across his waist. “And then all this happened.”

Steve turned to Bucky and reach out to kiss him again. He licked lightly across his lips and deepened the kiss, holding Bucky’s jaw. His hand trailed down to Bucky’s hip and his fingers explored under the fabric of his thin tank. A little moan escaped Bucky’s lips as Steve’s fingers explored his skin further across his hip, gentle and soft.

Bucky slid his leg over Steve’s and rolled his pelvis against Steve’s thigh, getting some of the friction he’d been needing all evening. Steve moved to grab a handful of Bucky’s firm ass and squeezed, pulling him in harder against his leg.

The way he bent his leg rubbed his thigh against Steve’s cock and his grip on Bucky’s ass tightened. He felt good, and Steve loved how the lithe muscle of his frame working against his body fit perfectly. Steve explored further as Bucky continued to lick into his mouth and rub against his thigh.

Steve knew they were crossing the blurry line of what was and wasn’t acceptable in such a public place in Vegas. It was difficult to care, what with Bucky responding so sweetly to his touch and the way he tasted on his tongue. There was another determined roll of Bucky’s hips against Steve, and he breathed harder into Steve’s mouth.

“Yeah, take it sweetheart,” he growled and pulled Bucky closer, almost on top of him. “Take what you want, Buck.”

Steve’s hand tightened again on Bucky’s waist and his fingers traveled down to his ass. When he got there, he squeezed possessively, his fingertips dipping into the cleft of his cheeks teasingly.

Bucky whimpered into Steve’s mouth. He tensed and shuddered as he came, biting down onto Steve’s lip.

The way Bucky took his pleasure so confidently made Steve’s dick twitch. Seeing him fall apart on top of him did something to Steve and his grip tightened further. He pulled Bucky’s thigh up higher so it rubbed against his dick again, chasing his own release. Bucky took the hint and worked Steve over just right.

“Fuck, baby,” Steve growled as he came, gripping another handful of Bucky’s ass. It was almost too easy to come with Bucky. And really, it wasn’t something Steve would otherwise be proud of, but he’d been holding this off all evening.

He kissed Bucky deep, both of them panting into the other’s mouth. As they came down, Steve lightly trailed his fingers back and forth across Bucky’s side by his waist. He kissed him again and squeezed Bucky’s flesh higher, just over his ribs, but the response wasn’t what he expected.

 _“Aah-_ wait! Oh, _fuck...”_ Bucky hissed and pulled away quickly, leaning away and guarding the side of his chest with his hand.

“Buck?” Steve asked, sitting up. “What happened, are you okay?”

He nodded but was still turned away and breathing painfully. Steve hesitated at first, but finally reached out softly touching the back of Bucky’s shoulder. He didn’t pull away, which Steve took as a positive sign, but his breathing didn’t get any less pained either.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked softly, rubbing the skin of Bucky’s shoulder along the edge of his tank. “Talk to me, sweetheart. What happened?”

Bucky shook his head and huffed a wet sounding humorless laugh. He sniffed and cleared his throat, and swiped at his eyes before turning to carefully to Steve, still guarding his ribs. As much as he tried to hide it, Steve saw everything.

“It’s okay. I just uh… I fell is all, busted my ribs good. My fault.”

Steve regarded Bucky carefully. His posture, the way his eyes were still the tiniest bit wet and how he wouldn’t look at him directly. He knew there was more than that and truthfully, Bucky was a bad liar. It pissed Steve off to the enth degree that he had been hurt and made to feel like he had to lie to cover it up.

Steve took a breath and stilled, pushing the violent thoughts about what he’d like to do to Rumlow out of his mind. Carefully, he moved forward to face Bucky.

“Buck, you can tell me the truth.”

“What do you mean?” Bucky’s brow furrowed and he forced a little laugh to cover his shame. His voice went back to the same tone of false cheer. “I told you, it was an accident.”

Steve hesitated a moment, then breathed out in frustration. He looked down, brushed a little left over salt from his chest and looked at the wet spot on his swim trunks - the mess he’d made of himself. My, how things had changed in a matter of minutes.

He felt farther away from Bucky in that moment than he had since they first met. He didn’t want to be _that guy,_ the one Bucky felt he had to perform for to keep happy. It was sobering in a real ice water to the nuts kinda way.

“Yeah, okay.”

“Steve.” Bucky looked up at Steve when he heard the defeat in his voice. He reached out, but pulled back just before making contact. His head fell and his shoulders slumped submissively.

“M’sorry.”

Steve noticed the hair trigger change in Bucky’s demeanor. His head swam with guilt as common sense come rushing back. It was amazing, the things one could ignore when reaching an orgasm was the only thing on one's mind. But that was no longer the case.

He was there to do a job.

Bucky was there to do a job.

In the matter of one evening, Steve managed to make quite the mess, all because he selfishly tried to work too many angles at once. It certainly was unchivalrous to act on his attraction to Bucky, blinding as it was. Especially knowing what he knew, and what the kid had just been through.

Steve didn’t want to hurt Bucky. The opposite, in fact. He set out to protect him and build him back up. He didn’t want to hurt him but he did. Even though he hadn't hurt him on purpose but did anyway... That fact alone made him feel like a total piece of shit.   

“You don’t owe me an apology, Bucky. None of this is your fault. None of that was your fault, either,” he nodded to Bucky’s ribs where his arm still hung protectively.

Whatever injury he had must have been a good one. Steve sighed and shook his head. The silence between them was only broken when Bucky stood. He looked down, still refusing to meet Steve’s eyes.

“I should go, Steve. I’m-” he stopped short before apologizing again, not wanting to anger Steve. “You didn’t-” he tried again to let Steve know something. What exactly, he wasn’t sure, so he settled on repeating himself, “I should go.”

Steve stood too, and reached for Bucky’s hand. How had they gotten to this point?

“Buck, please-” he tried, softly. “Can we talk about this?”

Bucky stopped short when Steve reached out for him. He held his hand, not really staying or going. His heart was about to pound right out of his chest.

Could he really tell Steve? Would he judge him, lose all respect for him? He didn’t think he could face disappointment in those eyes, not with the way Steve looked at him and actually _saw_ him. But admitting what Brock had done... He was still figuring out how to come to terms with it himself, so Bucky pulled his hand free of Steve’s and turned to go.

Steve didn’t follow him.

He wasn’t sure how exactly to get through to Bucky, but badgering him didn’t seem like a very good start. If he wanted to go, then Steve would let him go.

He sat heavily back on the chaise and dropped his hands between his legs in defeat. He had absolutely no idea what to do next. Of course, as if the moment couldn’t get any worse, Peter and Wanda stumbled into the cabana full of alcohol and happiness.

“Where’s Bucky?” Wanda asked through a giggle after she pushed Peter off of her neck for a minute.

Good question, Wanda, where indeed. Steve didn’t want to make a bigger deal out of it than it already was, and figured Bucky would want his privacy, so he threw on a false smirk.

“Headed upstairs, same place I’m goin’. Don’t wait up, you two.”   

“Bye Steve! Don’t have too much fun!”

_That won’t be a problem..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, both the [Bushwick Collective](http://thebushwickcollective.com/) and the [Invisible Dog](https://www.theinvisibledog.org/all?category=Exhibition) have real, honest to God art. Like, ART art, ya know? If you're ever in Brooklyn, you gotta check them out. Also, stop at Joe's Pizza and check out the mural of Mohammed Ali along the side of the building. It's amazing!
> 
> I can't tell you how much your comments and likes are loved and appreciated. You guys make this fun!


	10. Rough Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old habits are hard to break, other things break easily.

**Rough Night**

Since the team was instructed to meet in the morning at 8am for breakfast and a briefing, Steve set the alarm on his phone for 5am. That was well past his internal clock’s wake time, however, being in Vegas, one never knew. It would also give him time to have a relaxing morning swim and get his head cleared. He ambled into the bathroom to brush his teeth to get the taste of alcohol out of his mouth.

Halfway through the process, he finally met eyes with the guy in the mirror. Going by the mussed hair and small bruise on his pec, that guy looked like he’d just had a great time. As their eyes met, though, there was a definite change in appearance. His eyes were a little glassy, and he looked troubled and tired.

Older than his age.

Steve sighed. Sure, he got to rub one off with a hot guy, but that was about it. And it was exactly what he told Bucky he _wasn't_ there for. He really wasn’t. He was so far beyond that point in his life, and Bucky… The way Steve felt when those pretty gray eyes smiled up at him? That’s what he wanted from life. That was the guy he really wanted to be, but he had no idea how the hell he would get any of the kid’s trust back.

Steve grabbed a wash towel from the rack and wet it with some warm water to wipe the dried come off his skin. He tossed the towel and leaned full against the counter, looking closely at the man staring back, and shook his head.

“Get your shit together, Steve.”

The phone on the bed table stared at him, mocking him silently. Steve almost reached out to text Bucky, but then thought better of it. Still, he felt like he should apologize. Common sense won out and Steve realized if he texted an apology, it would cheapen the sentiment. The only thing it would accomplish would be to let Steve sleep a little better. That wasn’t fair to Bucky, and if Steve was being honest, he didn’t deserve to sleep well after what he pulled.

***

Bucky got to his room and changed into some jeans. He didn’t bother putting on another shirt, just headed back downstairs toward the casino. He felt like playing some blackjack or something. Count some cards, work on strategy, anything to take his mind off what he’d done.

Because what he’d done was exactly what Brock accused him of doing, right before landing a heavy backhand across his jaw earlier that week. It knocked Bucky off balance and he tripped back over the coffee table in Brock’s living room, catching his ribs on the edge as he fell. So technically, he didn’t lie to Steve. He did fall and bust his ribs - and according to Brock, it _was_ his fault.

But according to Brock, _everything_ was his fault.

The increasingly quiet, rational voice in the back of Bucky’s head reminded him that wasn’t true. There was no harm to Brock in anything he and Steve had done. They’d ended it beforehand. _He_ ended it, finally had the courage to do it once and for all.

And he didn’t cheat on Brock.

Bucky found an empty seat at a table and gave the dealer some money. The waitress had just arrived before he sat down and she smiled over at him sweetly. “Can I get ya anything doll?”

Bucky knew better than to make himself sick by mixing another alcohol into the beers and tequila he’d already started with that night. He gave the waitress a million dollar smile, hoping that would get him a better pour.

“Tequila sunrise, please,” he asked in the charming _kid from around the block_ way he had. It was easy to work that angle on people he didn’t know, people he could be anonymous to.

She winked at him and sauntered off, a little extra sway in her hips. And it was silly, really, how good he had gotten at flirting with women. He felt safe like that. They could be let down, but wouldn’t get aggressive with him.

There was a man at the other end of the half-moon table that watched the exchange closely. His eyes stopped on the mark just above Bucky’s clavicle. Bucky blushed and gave a little self-conscious shrug, lowering his eyes submissively. The way the man was so obviously checking him out made his skin crawl. Something about him reminded Bucky too much of Brock. It was in the dark eyes, the predatory stare.

He was just creepy. But Bucky knew better than to anger that type, so he politely nodded and shot the guy a friendly smile. Once the cards were dealt for the next hand, Bucky did his best to ignore the world around him and just focus on the numbers.

Bucky and Black Jack had always been good friends. Ever since his first trip to Atlantic City with a group of students his junior year of university, he knew the proper way to count. He did it well enough to stay under the radar, and he made sure to look unassuming while doing it.

Who would expect a guy who looked a little glassy-eyed, like he’d just finished partying, to be counting at a $100 - $2,000 limit table? That’s what made it perfect.

Two drinks and plenty of hands later, Bucky was up by a few grand. The others at the table had cycled through, all but one. Creepy guy across from Bucky had turned in to creepy guy next to Bucky. He introduced himself as Grant, a fellow techie in town for the trade show.    

Bucky tried to be cordial, but maintain his personal bubble at the same time. He found himself scooting toward the opposite edge of his chair, and trying to keep his answers short but polite.

“You in town for the trade show, too?” Grant asked, leaning in closer.

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, this is my first time here. Been trying to get here for years, though.”

Grant shot him a thousand-watt smile. “Guy like you should be one of the executives presenting some new tech.”

Bucky snorted a little laugh. Any other time, the completely obnoxious, totally cheesy pick-up line would have made him want to gag, but after so many drinks…

No, Bucky. Just… No.

Change the direction.

“You looking forward to the keynote in the morning?” Bucky asked.

Grant eyed him. He leaned even closer and put his arm around the back of Bucky’s chair. Bucky stiffened and Grant shrugged. The smell of liquor was heavy on his breath and his eyes were bloodshot and dilated. “Thought that would be the best part of my trip, but…”

“But?” Bucky asked, his head tilting curiously. What could have happened to change the guy’s mind on that one? He sure as hell was looking forward to Tony’s keynote.

Grant cocked a brow at Bucky and reached out to brush some hair back behind his ear. Oh shit. Bucky’s subconscious screamed for him to get out, to get away from the guy but Grant’s movement made Bucky freeze. He was terrified that he had somewhat _asked for it_ by keeping the conversation going so long, and he was disappointed with himself for letting it go so far.

“That was before I laid eyes on you.”

This was bad. Bucky had come downstairs to clear his head from everything that happened with Steve, not to find a guy to hook up with. Had he really sent that signal to Grant? He needed to figure out how the hell was he going to get out of it, because Grant wasn’t taking the hint.

The obvious discomfort on Bucky’s part didn’t seem to phase him. He did it again and Bucky’s shoulder raised in that automatic defensive posture he had. He almost fell out of his chair and recovered by standing at the last minute.

“I, uhm… I’m sorry,” Bucky stammered. “It was nice meeting you, but I should probably call it a night.” He reached out and collected his chips, shoving them into his pockets, only to have Grant grab onto his forearm.

“Big day tomorrow. I’ll walk you.”

It wasn’t a question or an offer. It was said as more of a command and it made Bucky’s blood run cold. He just wanted the guy to go away, so he pulled his arm out of his grasp. The dealer watched the two men, clearly aware of the dynamic between the two.

“Can I get you some assistance, sir?” he offered Bucky. The others at the table were watching and Bucky was mortified. He just wanted to get out of there.

“No, I’m fine,” he murmured, eyes down and cheeks flushing in humiliation. He really was his own damn worst enemy sometimes.

Bucky finished shoving his chips into his pockets, dropped a generous tip on the table for the dealer and turned to leave. He headed straight for the wall of elevators and pressed the button to go up. As he waited, he shifted his weight uneasily and tapped his fingers on his thigh out of a nervous habit. The doors opened and Bucky stepped back, allowing a group of intoxicated women with a bride-to-be in their midst to exit.

He stepped in just as the doors began to close and was pushed back against the wall of the elevator by someone with a firm grasp on his upper arm. Grant leaned in and clumsily caged him in with his body. The guy was tall, and built. Not _Steve_ built, but bigger than Bucky and all intimidation.

“I’m hurt, Bucky. Here I was being so nice to you. Come to find out you’re just a little cock tease,” Grant spat, holding him in place. He reached out and hit the stop button, causing the lights to dim and the elevator to jolt to a halt.

Bucky froze. His pulse sped up and his breathing ran shallow and quick. He felt his body starting to fall into that weird numb-like state that meant he was checking out, folding in on himself in self-preservation. He didn’t want to feel like that again, not then, not ever.

“Let me go,” he ground out, breathy from the panic but still loud enough to be heard.

Grant grabbed his jaw with his free hand and smacked his head back against the metal wall of the elevator, hard enough that Bucky felt it in his teeth. His head throbbed and spun. He pushed against Grant’s chest but the guy was leaning in with all his weight to pin him back. The grip Grant had on him tightened, his fingers digging into Bucky’s arm and jaw.

“I said get off me!” Bucky yelled, but Grant went in for a bruising, messy kiss, so Bucky bit out at his tongue and stunned him. He tried again to get loose and Grant’s balance faltered. He stumbled to the side and fell against the wall of buttons, jarring the pull-stop back into place and lighting up a few levels more before the rooms.

Bucky got as far away from Grant as he could, which was just to the other side of the elevator, but at the moment he’d take what he could. He’d already lived through too much of Brock’s abuse.

Grant charged clumsily and Bucky launched a swing, his fist landing flush against Grant’s jaw. It was enough to make Grant stumble backward and land on his ass across the elevator from Bucky. The contact cracked something in his hand and he immediately felt a jolt of pain up into his wrist. Without thinking, Bucky kicked Grant right in the groin, but fell forward against the wall when he tripped over Grant’s foot.

“Fuck!” he hollered, holding his hand behind his other arm protectively. The lift stopped and Bucky took off running through the doors as soon as they opened, almost colliding with a large party exiting the Aureole.

“Watch it asshole!” one of the men grumbled as Bucky caught himself on the man’s suit coat before he straightened and made his way down the hall in a rush.

“Sorry!” The apology Bucky tossed back wasn’t necessarily heartfelt but he did what he had to do to put as much distance between himself and Grant as possible. He found the wide staircase and escalators that lead back down to the casino level and followed them down. Across the casino floor there was another wall of elevators that would take him to his floor, so he hurried that way.

As Bucky pressed his room key against the sensor in the elevator to unlock the buttons for the upper levels, the doors slid closed. He pressed his button and rested his forehead against the cool metal of the wall.

What a disaster.

Bucky exited on his floor and made his way down to his room. It was quiet, everyone clearly in for the night or preparing for the next day. He silently repeated to himself, ‘please be asleep, please be asleep,’ as he passed Steve’s room. Steve Rogers was the last person he wanted to see after the events downstairs.

He entered his room and grabbed the ice-bucket first thing, and before he even had a chance to kick his shoes off, he was back out in the hall, headed to the ice machine. He needed something cold for his hand, and his fucking head was killing him.

Back in his room, Bucky kicked his shoes and pants off before slipping his tank over his head. Everything landed in a heap in the corner and he flopped down onto his bed in nothing but his boxers. The bucket of ice sat next to him and he shoved his hand into it, hissing in pain at the cold and sharpness of the cubes. Thankfully, his idea began working, and the throbbing in his hand dulled as the skin froze.

Bucky breathed a sigh of relief as the pain dulled further and he carefully leaned his head back deeper into the pillows. He tried to focus on the rhythm of his heartbeat to stave off another anxiety attack, and soon drifted off into an alcohol and exhaustion induced sleep.     

 


	11. Poor Technique

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve gets a talking-to, feels like a shit-nothin’ kid again and tries to clean up his mess.

**Poor Technique**

Steve woke to the sound of his alarm buzzing at him and rolled over, clumsily tapping the screen of his phone for a snooze. He buried his face into the pillow and tried to go back to sleep but an annoying feeling in the back of his mind kept telling him to wake the hell up.

He sat up on the edge of his bed and stretched, reaching up toward the ceiling and bending his arms back as far as they would go. He could feel the stretching of muscle in his chest and flanks and remembered he had a standing date with the pool.

When he padded into the bathroom to brush his teeth, he grimaced at the taste of alcohol still in his mouth. The guy in the mirror grimaced back but then he inspected the mark on his pec from the previous night. It was just as purple, if not more so, and wider after spreading over the night time hours. And if he smiled at the memory of Bucky in his arms?

_Sue him._

He pulled back on his swim trunks and strategically held a towel in front of the _(gross)_ crusty spot that remained, since he hadn’t rinsed out the fabric. He was pretty sure the spot on his shorts wasn’t the worst thing that hotel pool had seen, given the amount of hedonism the night before. It was best to not dwell on the thought too long, though.

That’s what chlorine was for.

Steve made his way down the hall quietly, considering the hour was early for the local time zone. Everything was still quiet, even though it was already after 8am in New York, but that was the beauty of hotel-grade draperies. They could block out the flash from a nuclear bomb. Hell, given the fact they were in the Nevada desert, it was entirely possible they had at one point.

The elevator opened quickly after Steve pressed the button and he made his way across the casino floor to the pool area. The number of red-eyed, partied-out people in the casino in the early morning hours never ceased to amaze him. Transversing that part of the casino so early was surreal.

The outside doors opened and Steve stopped once through, taking a deep breath. This was his favorite time of day in Vegas. The air, while still pretty warm from the summer heat, wasn’t stale anymore. The early morning cooled it _just_ enough. It was the closest thing one could get to fresh air so close to the Strip where the buildings were full of cigarette smoke and perpetual air conditioning.

Sounds of powerwashers and hoses rinsing down the party deck stood out against the early morning quiet, adding to the eeriness of the space. The surface of the pool was slick, calm; and aside from the maintenance staff, Steve was peacefully, blessedly _alone._

He pulled up a chair and set his things down on a side table before unfolding a towel. When he settled in he began a simple sequence of yoga starting with a forward fold into a downward dog. He breathed in deeply, opening his chest and letting gravity do it’s best to take his body toward the earth. Or concrete.

_Whatever._

He did a few more of his favorite holds before ending with a full bridge and another back walkover, then made his way to the deep end of the pool. Steve twisted his spine like he did in the plane and grinned remembering Wanda’s horrified reaction. He shook his arms out and dove into the pool, forging head-on into as many laps as he could complete before tiring.

Steve had never been a strong swimmer, necessarily, and his technique left a lot to be desired. That was par for the course though, from being a sickly kid with asthma. Even so, he did spend a lot of time in the water. It was one of the things he enjoyed as a kid and the Starks had a great pool. He always loved the feeling of being in the water and that never went away.

Steve’s breathing came harder and his chest and arms began to burn, so he pushed himself up out of the water and decided enough was enough. The sun was up higher and if he had to guess, he would say it was about six in the morning.

He brushed the water off his face and pushed back his hair before turning to where he left his things. There sat a surprise.

“Awful early for you, no?” Steve greeted, flicking water at Tony, just like any self-respecting pain in the ass kid brother would.

Tony squawked and his hand flew up to protect his ridiculously expensive designer sunglasses. He kept the grouchy look on his face, but Steve knew from experience it was more for show than anything else. He should be happy Steve didn’t pull him into a giant wet bear hug.

“How was your evening?” Tony asked.

Steve stopped mid-point through drying himself with the towel. How indeed. While the time he spent at Eclipse was good _\- very good -_ he didn’t exactly end the evening like he planned.

“Eclipse was quite an event,” he ginned and nodded to the pool. “I'm glad they put a little _extra_ chlorine in the pool.”

Tony screwed his face up and made a noise. “Eww, that’s gross Steve.”

Steve grinned, always happy to troll Tony, and settled back on his towel to practice his deep breathing. Being in the smoky building so much was starting to bother his lungs and he didn't want to have to revert back to using his inhaler again.

Tony nodded, narrowing his eyes at Steve and trying to identify the look on his face. He furrowed his brow in annoyance and shifted impatiently in the chair.

Steve knew what Tony wanted, he was just being a shit.

“You don’t have anything to worry about with him, Tony.” he said, keeping his eyes closed and body unmoving. “The other half is out of the picture.”

Tony’s brow rose in surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah. He got tired of the guy’s shit and broke it off. Guess he finally had enough.” Steve shrugged, then finally looked up at Tony. “From what I hear, it took some balls, getting rid of baggage like that.”

Tony made a disapproving sound. “So it’s true then… He was in an abusive relationship?” his eyes shifted to make sure they were still alone.

Steve nodded, sitting tall but looking down at the towel. He didn’t like to think of Bucky in that situation. The way Rumlow would grab him so roughly, and how he talked to him, it still angered him.

Steve knew more than he should have known and saw more than he wanted to see. It was time to come clean with Tony, though. There were too many different angles at play and he could tell it was getting mighty close to biting him in the ass.

“I know for a fact the guy was abusive. He’s a creepy, jealous piece of shit that’ll probably harass the kid before he finally gets the hint,” he began.

Steve ran his other towel loosely through his blond hair and looked up to Tony again. “The ex hired me a few days before you called about this job. I didn’t know anything about Bucky working for you until I got the backstory. _His version_ of the backstory at least."

“Ooh, pray tell, Steve,” Tony begged, leaning in.

Steve snorted. Tony always loved the mystery of Steve’s business. He was convinced it was much more glamorous and exciting than it really was. Someone had definitely watched too many Magnum PI reruns.

“He’s convinced he’s having an affair with you, and that’s why he got the job and the promotion.”   

“Me?” Tony asked, shocked. It seemed there were still some things that took him by surprise.

“Yeah,” Steve huffed a laugh. “He also thinks that's why he wouldn’t move in. But now we know the real reason. I mean, the guy’s a total dick.” Steve shrugged again, “And I know that’s not how you roll, but who was I to turn down the job - especially when it all should have been so easy?”  

Tony narrowed his eyes, picking up on the past tense Steve used. “Should have been? What changed?”

Steve rubbed the back of his neck and huffed another laugh. He could feel the heat creeping up to his cheeks, flushing his traitorous Irish skin. Tony looked him over, _really_  looked at him that time and his eyes landed on the mark on Steve's chest.

“Oh my god, how did I just _now_ see that?” Tony groaned, face-palming dramatically. “The two of you… Already Steve? Why didn’t you say anything? I wouldn’t have asked you to look into him!”

“You didn’t ask me, remember? Besides, it wasn't a thing at that point, not really,” Steve admitted, burying his face in his hands and rubbing them down his cheeks. “You’re family, Tony. I woulda done it for you either way. And it’s not like- I mean, I don’t think he…” he stammered. _“Jesus,_ I don’t know. I probably fucked it up already anyway.”

Steve slumped forward, his elbows propping him up on his lap. Tony reached down and cuffed him on the shoulder, jostling his big body.

“It didn't go over very well when he found out about your case, huh?”

Steve shook his head in that self-deprecating way he sometimes had and mumbled the rest. “He doesn’t even know. I should tell him... I'm _gonna_ tell him. It's just- everything was going so well. It might have been too much too soon. You know?” he lied.

Well, technically it wasn't a lie. Maybe. Steve was probably a total rebound for Bucky... They happened too soon for anything substantial to come of it.   

“Still, you owe the guy an explanation,” Tony lectured, but then changed his tone back to the aloof snarkiness that came so naturally to him. “Just try not to break his heart again today, alright kid? I’m gonna announce the new division and I want to surprise him in the keynote.”  

Steve looked up as Tony stood, ruffling his wet hair before leaving. How was it he was almost thirty goddamned years old and Tony could still make him feel like a kid who’d just gotten a scolding?

_Way to go, Rogers._

“Don't worry, I'll clean up my mess,” he called after Tony.

“Yeah you will,” Tony called back, not turning to look at him.

Fuck. He needed to make things right.

On the way back up to his room, Steve stopped at the Starbucks in the hotel and grabbed two mochas. He didn't know how Bucky liked his coffee, but just about anyone would enjoy a hot Mocha after a night of drinking. He also picked up a cold bottle of water and some Advil from the convenience kiosk.

Once on their floor, he couldn’t help but lean in a fraction of an inch to listen as he neared Bucky’s room on his way back. He heard the faint sounds of a television and hoped Bucky was awake and feeling better.

Now or never, he told himself. Just knock.

The door opened and a freshly showered Bucky peered out curiously. His eyes were heavy but they lit up when he saw the two coffees Steve was carrying. For once, Steve knew he did something right.

“Heya, Buck,” he greeted and handed over one of the paper cups. “Thought you'd like some coffee?”

“What’d I do to deserve this?” Bucky asked and took a long drink from the cup. He swallowed with his eyes closed, and groaned quietly before asking, “You wanna come in?”

“There's more, Tony taught me young,” he joked, holding up the water and Advil. “Nothin’ better for the morning after than a little hydration _with_ your caffeine.”

Steve took the bottles of water and Advil from under his other arm and handed them over after he was inside. He didn't miss the awkward way Bucky took them from him, moving his hand gingerly and grimacing as the door shut.

“What happened to your hand?”

“It's nothing.”

Bucky blushed and looked down, moving quickly to set everything down on the credenza. He moved to hide his injured hand behind his other arm, but Steve stepped closer, speaking quietly, his tone concerned and gentle.

“Please?” he asked, holding his hand out for Bucky’s. “Tell me what happened, Buck. Did someone hurt you?”

Bucky searched Steve's face for something. He shook his head no on instinct, but then those pretty gray eyes were still looking up to him, open yet cautious.

“Last night, after I left. I went to play some Blackjack and there was this guy.” He stopped, then breathed out a deep breath. “I suppose I shoulda known better. He was just like... my ex. Reminded me so much of him.”

Bucky shook his head again. Steve’s heart jumped in his chest. Bucky was on the verge of opening up to him and he wanted to keep it going.

“Take another drink,” he urged gently and nodded toward the coffee.

Bucky did, and then took another, ending with a nervous clearing of his throat.

“It's okay. You can tell me anything. I'm here for you, yeah?”

Bucky nodded, vulnerability evident in his eyes. “I tried to be polite, you know? I didn't lead him on, I swear I didn't.”

“Hey,” Steve reassured Bucky. “It's okay, nobody's accusing you of anything. I just want to help you. I'm supposed to keep you safe, remember?”

Bucky nodded. “He followed me to the elevator, and roughed me up ‘cause I turned him down. But I mean, I fought back…” More decidedly, he repeated, “This time I fought back. I'm not gonna put myself through that again.”

“Good, Buck. That's real good,” Steve praised, stepping closer. He reached out slowly and took Bucky's forearm, careful to not touch his hand. “You should always protect yourself. Is that what happened to your hand?”

Bucky nodded, eyes following the movements of Steve's hands as he moved his forearm to get a closer look at his fist. He allowed the touch, and Steve did his best to keep a soft, calm tone. It wasn't easy, especially with his instincts screaming at him, demanding to know who hurt Bucky.

“I punched him, but I guess my technique could use some work,” Bucky joked, a soft snort escaping him.

“We can work on that once you're healed up, if you want. Do you know what time it happened?”

Bucky shrugged again. “I dunno. About two, I think?”

Steve opened the water and took out a couple of Advil for Bucky. He handed them over, and Bucky took them obediently. He paused for breath, then downed just over half of the bottle.

“Guess you were thirsty, huh?” Steve teased.

Bucky handed the bottle back to Steve. “You should drink some too.”

Steve grinned and finished off the bottle. He was thirsty too, dammit. He had to ask Bucky a few more questions about the incident, and hoped it wouldn’t spook him off.

“Would you recognize him if you saw him?” he asked, nodding to Bucky’s hand.

Bucky nodded, chewing the inside of his lip. “Yeah, but I’m really hoping I don’t have to. He’s here for the convention.”

Steve cocked a brow at Bucky. “Pal, you just got yourself a bodyguard.”


	12. Let’s Go Break Some Eggs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are really starting to come together for Bucky...

**Let’s Go Break Some Eggs**

At the 8am meeting, there were last minute details to go over. Maria had already handled the pre registration for Stark’s attendees, and the passes were distributed. Everyone seemed good to go and that included Bucky. 

It was something else, seeing him in his element. He was confident, decisive and seemed truly happy. As much as he liked to hang out with Wanda and Peter, and yes they were friends, there was a natural air of leadership and authority about him that he settled into. It fit him well. 

Steve noticed him still favoring the hand so he pulled Helen, the head of the pharmaceutical division aside and asked her for a wrap. Steve knew from past experiences she never went anywhere without a first aid kit since Tony was the most accident prone mad scientist known to man.

“Thanks, doc,” he whispered as they rejoined the briefing. 

Steve motioned to Bucky to come see him once the group broke. “C’mere, I got somethin’ to help you out with your hand.”

Bucky followed Steve over to the side and held out his hand. Luckily, Steve was old friends with wraps and Boxer’s fractures. That was par for the course of training so many new fighters over the years since he’d been volunteer coaching at the youth center.

Bucky moved his hand carefully once he was all wrapped and Steve saw the physical relief in his expression. When Bucky turned to the glass window and saw his reflection, though, he frowned.

He tried tugging at the sleeve of his suit jacket, but that didn’t work. It was tailored very well so there wasn’t a lot of extra give.

“What is it?”

“It’s fine, thanks, Steve. Just doesn’t look as professional as I hoped.”

Steve cuffed him on the shoulder. “Look, if anyone says anything, just tell ‘em the first rule of Fight Club.”

That did it. Bucky let out a little snort of laughter and shook his head at Steve. “C’mon  _ bodyguard,  _ we got work to do.”

***

The group made their way downstairs to the main hall in time to settle in for the opening remarks. The convention was entering its fifth decade, and there was an air of celebration and excitement to the opening addresses. Many people had come specifically for Tony’s talks, as he, like Howard Stark before him, was a highly esteemed engineer and inventor and also very well published. 

Once he was introduced he took the stage, Happy flanking him and standing back and to the side as he spoke. Steve kept an eye on the audience for anything out of place, and Maria’s team was manning the booth in the hall next door, preparing for when Tony’s address concluded.

Steve discreetly eyed Bucky, and couldn’t help but grin at the warmth in his chest when he saw how Bucky was engaged in Tony’s presentation. Excitement radiated off of the trio of interns, and Steve practically vibrated with impatience waiting for the announcement Tony had planned. Just over ten minutes into his speech, the time finally came.

“Those of you who know me, know I don’t sit idle. I have a great deal of respect for the sacrifices our armed forces make, and so I work closely with the Wounded Warrior Project. I have a special announcement today, and if you’ll bear with me one moment, I’d like to call someone up to the stage.” 

There were hushed whispers throughout crowd, everyone speculating on who this surprise person would be. Tony turned to the side, where Steve and the interns were, and grinned. 

“Bucky, can you come up here for a minute?”

Bucky’s posture straightened and his head quickly tilted to the side the slightest bit, his brow furrowed in confusion. He rose to his feet, and hurried up to see what he could help Tony with.

When he reached the stage Tony’s hand was out expecting a handshake, and Bucky gritted his teeth through his smile in advance, expecting the pain to shoot up into his wrist from the pressure. Tony glanced down and he noticed the wrap around his hand. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen multiple times on Steve when he was growing up and still learning, so he grasped Bucky’s hand carefully and with the slightest bit of pressure possible.

“Everyone, I’d like to introduce James Buchanan Barnes, head of the internship program at Stark Industries.”

The crowd applauded in a warm welcome and when Tony raised his hand to quiet the space, he continued. 

“Bucky is exceptionally intelligent and has a natural talent for seeing things as they could be, rather than as they are. That’s why I’d like to introduce him as the Director of our newest division, Biomechanical Prosthetics.”

Tony took in Bucky’s stunned face, and grinned wide, his dark brown eyes dancing in delight. He cuffed Bucky on the shoulder and jostled him the tiniest bit, then joined the applause for him. Bucky’s surprise and his pride in himself was adorable, his cheeks flushing a light pink as his face lit up.

“Really, Tony?” he asked, shock turning to excitement. “That’s… Wow, thank you!”

“So, you accept?” Tony teased and Bucky laughed, his head tilting back as he let out a big, happy sound.

“Yes! Of course I- what am I crazy? Hell yeah, I accept!”

Bucky looked over toward Steve, Wanda and Peter, and saw them standing in applause, along with the rest of the crowd. He paused a second to take it all in, the pride lighting up his eyes. Tony guided him forward to speak. 

Bucky cleared his throat and took a breath to settle his nerves. “Hi, thank you. Thank you all. This is a major surprise and I’m just really grateful for the opportunity. I can’t wait to get started.”

He turned and hugged Tony before the older man took the mic back. Tony turned to the crowd and waved before ending his address with his trademark line.

“Let’s go break some eggs.”


	13. Congratulations are in Order

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things always seem to come together just in time to really fall apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full disclosure- this chapter hints at the dark direction this fic is going to go for a minute. I'll begin that later chapter with a warning, and the summary should be enough for you to get the gist of it. 
> 
> In the meantime, enjoy some more Steve and Bucky!

**Congratulations are in Order**

Bucky was met with hugs and congratulatory handshakes as he left the stage. His eyes were bright and sparkled with excitement and pride. Wanda and Peter both grabbed him and pulled him into an enthusiastic group hug.

Just after he broke free, another wave of industry experts and executives came to bestow their wishes for success and share personal experience of how they thought he should proceed once back in New York. It took every fiber of self control for Steve to not push forward past the anonymous suits and wrap Bucky up in a big hug, but he managed to abstain. It wasn’t too long though, before he and Happy did have to move the hordes of attendees trying to get a moment with Tony and bring some order back to the area where the Stark Industries staff was gathered.

The entire purpose of having a booth in the adjacent hall was to make the experts available to attendees for Q and A. Their tech was highly confidential and proprietary, however one thing Tony had always been willing to do was collaborate to help the next generation break ground, as it were.

Once the sessions were in full swing, time flew by. There was a VIP suite for platinum attendees to use as they saw fit, and Steve still had a trio to watch for. Steve escorted Wanda and Peter to the VIP suite as another Q and A session with Tony and his team began. Since Bucky was now a Director, that put him in the junior executive arena with Sharon, and he was part of the panel discussions. It made it more difficult to keep tabs on the group once they were split up that way, but he was always up for a challenge. Besides, Happy and Maria, and Maria’s assistant were also there.

It was one thing for Bucky to be running errands and filling in, as he’d prepared to do, and yet a whole other experience for him to be part of the big leagues. It was aberrant, that was for sure, to have his first time at the convention be in that capacity. Attendee after attendee fired questions at the panel, each taking full advantage of their luck and the opportunity to gain the ear and insight of Stark Industries.

When Tony decided last minute to have his team troubleshoot real world scenarios with select professionals, word spread like wildfire. Each subject matter expert was limited to three consults, and the spaces filled instantaneously. The last minute format change served to make security’s day a whole lot harder and Steve was oh-so-grateful.  

_No, really, thanks Tony._

Happy, of course, stuck to Tony like glue. That left Steve and Maria, as well as Maria’s assistant Victoria to fend for themselves, covering the rest of the group, and it was _quite_ the group.

Happy pulled Steve to work with Dr. Banner and Dr. Selvig from Nuclear Physics. Given the level of risk their specialty carried, there was no room for error. The scientists themselves had hearts of gold but were known to also be a bit unpredictable from time to time.

Maria covered Phil Coulson and the Odinson brothers from the Advanced Communication Systems Division, and her assistant Victoria Hand followed Dr. Helen Cho and Sharon Carter. Due to the nature of his new division, Bucky’s area was added alongside Helen and Sharon in Biopharmaceutical Technology.  

And it wasn’t that Steve didn’t trust Maria’s assistant, _per se,_ he just didn’t know her. That did nothing to quell his concerns of the guy that assaulted Bucky in the elevator the night before, considering he was the only one that knew about it. At the last moment, he spotted Wanda and Peter, and flagged them over.

“Hey Steve, crazy morning, huh?” Peter asked, voice laced with excitement.

Steve nodded. “Yeah, this year’s insane. I need you two to do something for me.”

Wanda’s brows rose, curious to see what he needed.

“Keep an eye on Bucky, yeah? I think Victoria might need an extra hand.”

Peter snorted a laugh and Steve cocked his head in all seriousness.

He cleared his throat and schooled his expression. “Sorry, uh, it’s just… Her name is Victoria _Hand.”_

Steve rolled his eyes in annoyance but good-naturedly gave Peter a light slug in the shoulder. “Ha, _smartass._ Just keep an eye on Buck, okay? Let me know right away if anything seems off.”

“Don’t worry, we will,” Wanda assured him. She didn’t say anything further, but the flash of eye contact they shared let Steve know she understood he was concerned for a reason, even though she didn’t know what it was.

***

Bucky took his seat at the table to the left to Sharon, settling comfortably in the spacious booth. He was still riding high on the thrill of his promotion when the first person sat down. The man was tall, older and had graying strawberry blond hair.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, James. Or should I call you Bucky?” the man asked.

Bucky grinned across the table openly. He stuck his left hand out for the man to shake, holding the wrapped one up briefly in explanation.

“Bucky is fine.”

“Alexander Pierce. I see you’ve had an eventful trip so far,” he nodded, raising his brows in mirth.

Bucky huffed a small laugh, and shrugged his shoulders. He nervously ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back even as he straightened in his chair. He didn’t want to waste time on small talk because he was there representing Stark Industries, and that was a Big Deal™.

“So, Mr. Pierce, what can I do for you?”

The man sat back in his chair. His eyes carefully evaluated the new Director. “I’ve been working on a program for a few years, off the books, if you will. I know you’ll be focusing on advanced prosthetics, and I want to talk shop. Perhaps you could help an old man gain a fresh perspective?”

“Uh, sure. I don’t see why not… Do you have anything with you we could review?”

The man laughed condescendingly, and Bucky didn’t quite like the guy. He seemed shady as fuck and not like someone Tony would do business with. Still, it was his first time and he didn’t exactly know the complete protocol for these types of networking sessions.

“God no, dear boy. I wouldn’t be so careless as to carry that kind of thing around in my pocket. Give me your card, and we can catch up when you’re back in New York.”

“Uh, yeah, sure. I can do that,” Bucky hesitated but then agreed.

Pierce stood, and Bucky followed. He reached into his jacket pocket, grabbing his business card. When he passed it over to Bucky he held out his hand. Bucky passed over his own and Pierce inspected it with narrowed eyes before looking back up at him.

“Hmm. Good. We’ll talk soon.”

The minacious feeling Bucky got from Alexander Pierce faded as he became wrapped up in the newness of being treated like a subject matter expert. It wasn’t that he didn’t qualify for such treatment, necessarily, it was just something not commonly bestowed on someone of his youth and recent _paid_ entry to the industry.

Up next were a young couple from Silicon Valley who had a startup providing high-tech, low cost safe heating sources to families in third world countries. Their mission was to combat hypothermia in children and the elderly. The three had a rousing discussion about the ethics of implants to track real-time core body temperatures rather than chance the recipients of the systems setting temperatures inaccurately.

“So, you’re going solar, right?” Bucky asked, reviewing the excerpt from their technical specifications.   

The woman nodded, but the husband disagreed. “I’d like to go with microhydro electricity. I know it’s risky, but considering there’s the need for maintenance in solar... What do you think?”

Bucky chewed his bottom lip. He thought carefully about the target demographic the company would be servicing. “Microhydro’s probably best, considering. I think you're right. There would be too much maintenance involved in solar.”

The husband grinned and the wife playfully glared at him. “Great, now _I_ owe _him,”_ she teased, kissing her husband on the cheek.

Their time was up and the couple stood and gave Bucky a folder of information. “We’d love to stay in contact with you, if that’s okay.”

Bucky took their information and passed his own back. The company excited him. Their goal to provide for those in need was something he closely identified with, hence his long standing fascination with prosthetics. It was definitely something he could get on board with.

“Please do. I’d love to work with you guys more. I’ll talk to Tony too, and see what his thoughts are on alternative power sources. I’m sure he could add a lot to the project.” Bucky smiled wide and bid the couple farewell before sitting back in his chair.

He ran his fingers over the embossed logo on the folder the couple had given him. He looked up just as the last person entered to meet with him and his heart stopped. No way.

Bucky’s eyes darted left and right, searching the hall for Steve. He was hoping to at least catch a glimpse of that soft blond hair, or his even his eyes. Maybe he could motion him over so he wasn’t feeling so exposed.

He didn’t want to cause a scene, but he was starting to panic. Any time Brock would bother him at work, it was almost impossible to not be thrown off his game, but this guy… It was totally different. Bucky was in a foreign place, in a new position. Out of all the attendees, how was it that this asshole made it into the panel area?

Granted, Bucky was new and people weren’t exactly lined up around the corner to talk to _him…_ But still. It was freaking him the fuck out.

No.

He had to make it work. This was his time to shine, and he wasn’t about to let some asshole ruin the experience for him. He took a deep breath and plastered the smile on his face that he used to use when he didn’t want to upset Brock.

Bucky was very close friends with the _fake it till you make it_ move. He wasn’t going to act like things were just fine, but he wasn’t going to let this guy get the best of him either.

Grant watched Bucky closely and sat across the table from him. The way Grant eyed him from tip to toes as he approached made his skin crawl, but he took another breath and plowed forward.

“How can I help you today?” he asked, voice strained yet controlled, not at all friendly but still professional to the unfamiliar ear.

He didn’t reach out to shake Grant’s hand. If the asshole thought he could get away with touching Bucky ever again, he could fuck right off.

“I see congratulations are in order,” Grant smirked.

Bucky nodded tersely in agreement. “They are.”

Grant wasn’t expecting that response and Bucky’s heart pounded harder in his throat when he saw the flash of anger in his eyes, but just as it happened, Peter walked over and interrupted.

“My apologies, gentlemen. Can I get either of you anything?” he asked in a tone Bucky immediately recognized as put on.

His eyes flicked to Peter, then Wanda who was just off to the side but watching the interaction intently. Thank god for Wanda and her ridiculous sense of intuition. Peter wasn't intimidating, not in the least, but both his and Wanda’s presence reminded Bucky that he wasn’t alone. They had his back. Hopefully with others listening, Grant would take the hint and leave him alone.

Bucky had an idea he hoped would work, given the absurdity of the request he was about to make. “Hey Peter, can you please ask Steve to bring me the new business cards he's holding for me? I want to be able to give Grant here my contact information.”

He shot a forced smile to Grant and sent Peter on his way. Grant watched the exchange closely with narrowed eyes, his arms folded across his chest as if to claim the space.

Bucky's eyes flicked immediately back to Grant and with a hushed voice he leaned forward. “That should keep him busy, now what the hell do you want from me?”

Grant shrugged. “I'm just here with a message. We have a mutual friend, if you will.”

“Who?” Bucky asked, his brow furrowed in confusion and anxiety.

Grant leaned forward to match Bucky's posture. He smirked aberrantly, and Bucky's blood ran cold.

“Jack Rollins," he replied, watching Bucky’s reaction and seeming to get pleasure out of the anxiety in his expression. “Seems you've been a real bad boy, Bucky. I don't think Brock will be too happy to hear about that pretty little mark I saw on your neck last night. The one just under your neckline.”

“I don't answer to Brock anymore, _you son of a bitch,”_ Bucky hissed, surprising himself with the visceral reaction he had to the threat. “So you can run back to Jack and tell him whatever the fuck you want.”

Bucky's heart was pounding in his ears and he was pretty sure his face was flushed, given his anger. He felt so volatile he almost didn't know what to do with himself. It was the exact opposite of how he'd always been, like something snapped inside himself when Grant threatened him with Brock. That part of his life was over; Brock was as good as dead to him. He was _never_ going back.

Just then Peter returned with Steve. When Steve saw the look on Bucky's face, Steve’s fists tightened and his jaw clenched. He came up behind Grant and stood in his space in the most intimidating _Steve_ way ever. Maria flanked him and moved to Grant’s other side.

“You okay Bucky?” Steve asked, voice deep and controlled.

Bucky immediately felt safer and it was like the anger from before seeped right out of his lungs. He answered Steve, nodding to his right hand for emphasis. “No. Actually, I think Grant here needs some help leaving. Between the _elevator_ last night and right now, there’s nothing left to say.”

Anger flashed in Steve's eyes and he grabbed Grant roughly by the upper arm, hauling him to his feet. Grant turned and when he met Steve face to face, he jutted his jaw out defiantly and appeared like he was going to get in Steve’s face. Maria grinned up at Grant tauntingly and stepped to Steve’s side.

“I don't think that's the smartest idea you've had all day, sport. Might wanna rethink your life choices.” She then moved behind Grant and pulled his arms back behind his back, holding them by his elbows in her firm grip.

“Victoria,” Steve called across the booth to the other side where she was assisting Helen, and nodded for her to come over. When she was next to him, he leaned in and gave her orders. “Help Maria get this guy back to our hotel’s security unit. We've got surveillance footage to watch of him assaulting one of our own last night.”

He nodded to Maria and she pulled out a pair of thick plastic zip tie handcuffs. When she was placing them on Grant he tried to lunge forward, but crashed into Steve the Immovable Wall and his Giant Chest™.

His bright blue eyes darkened and he grabbed Grant by the collar of his shirt, growling low so as not to make more of a scene, “Give me a fuckin’ reason you piece of shit. I'm begging you.”

Seeing the wild flash of anger in Steve’s eyes made Grant take freeze. He knew he’d been bested. Still, he did what he could to leave the lasting impression on Bucky that he set out to make. His dark eyes shifted to him and he grinned ferally.

“Have fun when you get back home, you little bitch,” Grant spat. “Brock and Jack are looking forward to enjoying it.”

The repeated threat was more than a taunt and Bucky knew there was substance behind it. In the chaos of Steve and the others arriving, he’d lost his edge and he was no longer riding on the wave of adrenaline-induced protection over his new position. The words caused a chill to run up his spine and his hands began shaking.

“Parker, you and Maximoff split up,” Steve ordered more audibly, his eyes never leaving Grant’s face. “One of you take the docs and the other stay with Pharma.” He looked to Maria. “Go ahead. I’ll meet you back there. I'm gettin’ Bucky outta for a few minutes.”

“Got it,” Maria nodded.

She and Victoria each took one of Grant’s arms and lead him out the back toward the area where the Stark drivers were waiting. Once Grant was out of sight, Steve walked around Bucky’s table and pulled him into a warm hug. It was the same one he’d been dying to give him all morning, but much more protective.

“You okay sweetheart?” he murmured, keeping the commotion to a minimum.

Steve held Bucky around the waist with one arm and his warm palm held the back of Bucky’s neck with the other. The contact was grounding and Bucky let himself nuzzle into the crook of Steve’s neck long enough to shudder out the breath he’d been holding. He squeezed his eyes shut tight, trying to push the memories away from other times Brock and Jack _enjoyed_ punishing him.

“Come on, I’ve got you,” Steve urged.

He picked up the folders the startup had left with Bucky and laced their fingers, leading Bucky over toward the VIP lounge. Once inside, he grabbed two bottles of water and pulled him into one of the back hallways that wound through the convention center.

Once they were through the doors, Bucky leaned against the concrete wall and ran his hands down his face, sighing in anxiety. He looked up to Steve and shrugged in the little self-deprecating manner he had, trying his best to keep his voice from trembling. He should have known the guy had something to do with Brock and Jack.

“So… That was the guy from the elevator I was hoping to not run into.”

Steve smiled tersely back because oh how he would like to have that asshole alone in a car right then. But he had more important things to do, like make sure Bucky was okay.

“It’s okay, we have him now. When we get back to the hotel you’ll have to provide a statement with the LEOs and then you’re done, yeah? Come here.” He pulled Bucky into another hug, then pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. “Okay?” he asked and opened a water, holding it out for Bucky to drink.

“Okay. Thank you, Steve,” Bucky murmured, taking the water and drinking about half.

He held it out for Steve like he had done that morning and Steve shot him a fond smile. It was the little gestures like that which had Steve falling hard. Steve took the water and finished the bottle. As he swallowed, he remembered something Grant said before Maria and Victoria escorted him out.

_Brock and Jack are looking forward to enjoying it._

“Buck, they don’t have keys to your place, do they?” he asked. If they did, he wasn’t going to waste any time ordering getting the locks changed.

“Huh?”

“Brock and Jack- or any of their crazy gym friends. They don’t have access to your place, right?”

Bucky shook his head. “No, they don’t- wait… How do you know about them?” Bucky asked, backing up a step. He never told Steve about Brock and Jack specifically, or their business for that matter.

_Fuck._

The panic in Bucky’s eyes was unmistakable and Steve knew right away the grievous error he’d made. He wasn’t supposed to know. As far as Bucky knew, he didn’t know.

_Fuck. Think, Steve._

“Sweetheart, wait… I was gonna tell you, I just- we haven’t had time, is all.”

“Tell me? What were you going to tell me, Steve? Is it- I mean... Oh my god, you too?” Bucky’s eyes flickered over Steve’s heavily muscled frame and the pieces began slotting together in his mind. His eyes, god, those beautiful eyes… There was immediate hurt and betrayal there and Steve’s heart sank knowing he was the one to cause it.

“Buck, it’s not what you think,” Steve tried and Bucky shook his head at Steve. “Sweetheart,” he begged, reaching out for Bucky’s hand.

Bucky backed away in a panic, right into the wall behind him. He realized there was nowhere else to go, other than back out into the convention. He couldn’t be seen in the state he was, tears burning hot in his eyes, ready to spill over at any moment, hands shaking.

Brock was right. Bucky underestimated his reach, his control. He looked up to Steve again and then lowered his eyes submissively.

“I’m sorry. I’ll do whatever he wants, just let Grant go. Please. _Please, Steve,_ don’t tell them. It’ll just make it worse when I get back.” He begged quietly. When he looked back up at Steve, tears were running down his face. “I’ll do whatever you guys want. Whatever _you_ want, Steve. _Please.”_

Steve was horrified by what he was seeing and hearing. Did Bucky really think he could be part of- _oh god..._ What _the hell_ had they _done_ to him, anyway?

“Jesus Christ, Bucky, no! I’m not-” he shook his head emphatically. “I’m not like that. I don’t know what they’ve done to you, but I could never hurt you. I’m a private investigator. Brock hired me, and then Tony needed help with this job. I’m not _like them,_ Buck.”

“You’re a what?”

“He thought you were cheating on him. That you got your position because you were having an affair with Tony, and I know that’s not how Tony is. It was a no-brainer, so I took the job… But then I met you.” Steve shook his head, his eyes pleading with Bucky to believe him. “I saw how he was so mean to you, and I told him, Buck. I told him you didn’t do any of those things he said. After you broke it off with him, he wanted me to keep following you but I wouldn’t do it.”

Bucky’s face screwed up, trying to piece everything together. “So you... You _don’t_ know Brock and his friends? But, wait- so you’re _not_ an artist?” The tears kept falling and he swiped angrily at them. “Steve, I don’t understand. Just,” he shook his head again. “Just tell me what the hell’s going on, _please.”_

  



	14. I Know So

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve gets a chance to try and make things right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEED THE NOTES PLEASE! 
> 
> Content warning: Bucky and Steve talk about violence, abuse, forced oral copulation, rape, assault and PTSD symptoms. Non- graphic narrative of Bucky's experience being gang-raped by Brock and friends. 
> 
> This chapter will be summarized in the notes of Ch. 15 if you want to skip because of triggers.

**I Know So**

“Buck,” Steve murmured, carefully stepping closer and pulling Bucky into his arms, “come here. I’ll explain everything to you, I promise.”

Bucky’s tense posture melted as he allowed himself to be brought into Steve’s embrace. It had been a roller coaster for him during such a short trip and his anxiety was off the charts. The confidence and authority he carried himself with earlier that day had been broken, and what remained was a timorous shell of unfilled potential. He wanted to believe Steve, he really did.

But he wanted to believe Brock at first, too.

He numbly followed Steve through the back doors of the conference center that lead to the Stark Industries transportation pool. Once inside the car, he leaned his head carefully back against the plush leather interior. He’d already flopped back against a seat that day which reminded him of getting his head slammed against the wall of the elevator.

Finally, they were heading back to the hotel and in the back of Bucky’s mind, all he really wanted was a hot shower and the ability to fall into a deep, restful sleep. The problem was, there wasn’t enough sleep in the world to cure the exhaustion that was settling into his body. It spread deep, down to his bones and permeated his very core.

Bucky knew the anxious, numb feeling he was experiencing all too well. It was part of his defense mechanism from the abuse he’d suffered at the hands of Brock and his friends. It always began as exhaustion, then numbness. After that it gave way to a foggy, dreamlike state where he knew he was awake but the world around him felt like a dream. Things that happened there, happened to him, but at the same time it was like he was on the outside looking in, safe and detached.

***

“Bucky,” Steve called again, quietly. He reached over and squeezed Bucky's thigh. “Hey, Buck. We're here, sweetheart.”

Bucky jumped at the contact and he sat up, eyes darting back and forth to take in their surroundings. They were back at the hotel, and he needed to get out of the car.

_Fuck. He was depersonalizing again._

“Right, yeah. Sorry, just thinking,” he lied.

God, he really didn't want Steve to see him like this.

Steve tipped the driver and lead Bucky into the main lobby, his hand resting lightly at the small of Bucky's back. He wasn't being possessive, he just really wasn't sure if Bucky was okay at the moment.

During the ride back Steve tried to talk to him, but Bucky had just looked right through him. He nodded in understanding at first, but soon stopped responding normally. Steve noticed a glassy look in his eyes and a slowing of his reactions, like he was moving and thinking a step behind where he should have been.

Once inside, Steve walked them to a bank of elevators. Bucky stiffened when the doors closed, his breathing quickening pace in the enclosed space.

“It's okay, Buck. Just you and me, yeah?” Steve reassured. Bucky nodded and leaned his weight into Steve the slightest bit, and Steve pulled him that much closer. Bucky continued to stare blankly ahead. By some twist of fate, they were able to get directly to their floor without any stops or interruptions.

The doors opened and Steve tapped Bucky's hip lightly. They made their way down the hall to Bucky’s door and Steve stopped. He looked at Bucky expectantly and the blank look in his eyes flickered into understanding.

Bucky dug the key card out of his pocket, hands still shaking. As he tried to open the door, he fumbled and dropped the card. When he picked it up off the ground, Steve covered his hand and gently took it from him, opening the door and leading Bucky inside.

“What do you need right now, sweetheart?”

Bucky looked up at him, and Steve could see he was trying. It took a moment, but then Bucky's brow furrowed. He opened his mouth to say something, but then looked down at his clothing, hand grabbing at his pocket but he didn't find whatever it was he was looking for.

“My meds, they're…” his voice trailed off and he gracelessly sat down at the edge of his bed. He clasped together his empty, shaking hands, then looked back up to Steve. “My bag, it's in… the bathroom? The counter. I think.”

Steve was on it. He scanned the tidy room and saw a leather toiletry bag on the counter. He dug, but didn't find any bottles of medicine. He was just about to give up when a small silver cylinder caught his eye. He opened it and inside were a few larger green capsules, along with some smaller blue tablets.

He took the cylinder out to Bucky to find him breathing shallow and still shaking.

“Which ones, blue or green?”

“Blue, please.”

Steve shook out a blue tablet and gave it to Bucky. He had just turned back from getting the bottle of water from the credenza to see Bucky swallow the pill dry. He held out the water regardless, given the sour expression on Bucky's face.

“Another, uh-blue… please?” he asked quietly and Steve nodded, handing over another pill. “Thank you, Steve.”

Bucky took it and laid back at the foot of the bed, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. He blew out a few forced breaths through his lips and sniffed, rubbing away the moisture from his cheeks.

Steve sat next to him, not touching him, but staying close enough to let him know he was there in case he needed anything else. They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, but then in a small voice, Bucky finally spoke.

“I'm so sorry. I never wanted you to see me like this.”

Steve turned back to look at Bucky. “Don't do that, okay? You don't ever have to apologize to me for needing help.”

He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Bucky was still quiet, but his speech pattern was back to normal, like he finally caught up with himself. It killed Steve the way Bucky sounded ashamed of himself, so Steve gave him a little bit of reassurance his Ma used to give him whenever he was too sick to do something on his own.

“We all need help sometimes, that's what makes us human.”

Bucky lifted his hands from his face to chance a look at Steve only to meet a reassuring, soft smile. He sat up and leaned his weight over toward Steve long enough to nudge him against his side.

“Seriously, how are you real?” Bucky asked, shaking his head. “You're like, perfect. It's really not fair, you know,” he teased.

Steve nudged him back and huffed out a soft laugh, blushing from Bucky's teasing.

“Nah, I'm far from it,” he shook his head and looked back into those pretty gray eyes. “Trust me.”

Bucky caught the corner of his lower lip between his teeth out of a nervous habit. He looked down and sighed. “I want to, Steve. I really do.”

“What can I do?” Steve asked, hopeful there would be a way to earn it. He reached up and brushed a lock of hair back behind Bucky’s ear, encouraged that Bucky didn’t flinch away from him.

“Can… uhm,” he began, unsure at first. “Can you explain it to me again? I had a hard time understanding before- with the anxiety and all.”

Steve’s heart skipped with a silly little bubble of hope. He was more than happy to explain himself to Bucky. Anything to help him understand that he wanted nothing from Bucky other than to see him safe and happy.

Bucky reached up and loosened his tie. He slid it off while blowing out another anxious breath and began unbuttoning his shirt. When he stood to undress, he checked his watch and asked Steve over his shoulder if Steve minded if he got more comfortable.

“The meds make me sleepy sometimes, and I only got a few hours last night.” He went to the dresser and pulled out a pair of soft cotton joggers. “Want some?”

Steve realized it was Bucky's way of asking him to stay. He breathed out in relief and nodded, grateful for the offer.

“You got extra?” Steve asked and Bucky pulled out a similar pair in a lighter color, holding them up.

“Becks - that's my kid sister - she’s the original overpacker. I blame her, but if you ever repeat that, I'll deny it to the death.” He huffed a small laugh and tossed Steve the pants, “I'd rather gouge my eyes out than face her wrath.”

“Noted,” Steve grinned and stood to change as well.

Once both men were in comfortable pants and their undershirts, Bucky grabbed a fresh water for Steve from the small fridge and climbed up to the head of the bed. He leaned back against the headboard and motioned for Steve to join him.

They settled next to each other and Bucky flipped on his Spotify through the Bluetooth speaker in the room. He nudged Steve's shoulder again and looked up at him expectantly.

“So, uh…” he cleared his throat, “I'm James Buchanan Barnes, but you can call me Bucky. It's nice to meet you, Steve.”

Steve took the hint. He wasn't a _complete_ moron, after all. He gave a nervous chuckle, enjoying Bucky's prodding.

“I'm, uh- well, I’m Steven Grant Rogers. I live in Brooklyn Heights and I have my own business called Rogers Investigative Services. Sometimes I do contract work for Tony but I mostly set my own schedule so I can work on my art.”

“Painting, right?” Bucky asked, and Steve grinned into a sip of water.

“Yeah, that and drawing.”

“How did you get into that? I mean being a private investigator...”

Steve shrugged. “I'm what Tony lovingly refers to as a stubborn little shit. He's called me that since I can remember. Once I wasn’t so little anymore, he wanted me to work with Happy full time, but I turned him down. I had to see if I could make it on my own.”

Bucky snorted a laugh and leaned lower on his pillow, looking up at Steve from behind his lashes. He was clearly more relaxed and becoming less inhibited. “That's right…” he grinned, “tell me more about the little guy.”

“You really wanna know about all that?” Steve asked, cheeks flushing. “It's not very glamorous.”

Steve didn't want to waste time talking about himself. He would much rather explain the case and how he'd come to cross paths with Bucky, but he indulged him anyway.

***

“So that's how I met my best friend,” he laughed, “flat on my back after she kicked my ass. We were twelve then, and she's still the toughest woman I know. Right up there with my Ma, and Ma always did love Nat.”

“Did?” Bucky asked, looking up at Steve again.

He'd snuggled up against Steve’s side. The medication had done an incredible job in bringing his anxiety level down.

“Yeah. Not too long after Granny Stark passed on, Ma was diagnosed with breast cancer, a real aggressive strain.” Steve cleared his throat and swallowed over the lump in his throat that appeared every time he talked about losing his mother. “She went through the surgery and chemo, but it didn't even touch it. Doc said it spread like wildfire.”

Bucky reached out for Steve's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze before pulling it into his lap and threading their fingers together. “I'm sorry, Stevie.”

God, the nickname still managed to warm Steve's heart. “Thanks, Buck.”

“How old were you?”

“Fifteen.”

“Fifteen?” Bucky parroted, sitting up a bit more. “Where did you- I mean… your dad, uhm… Did you live with him too?”

“No. I never really knew him.” Steve cleared his throat. He reluctantly let go of Bucky’s hand to open the bottle and take a drink of water. “He died in the Gulf War when I was a baby.”

 _“Jesus,”_ Bucky breathed, pushing his hair back. He couldn't imagine life without his parents, and poor Steve hadn't had a family since he was still a kid.

Steve shrugged, “S’alright, the Starks took me in. I mean I practically lived there anyway, so they just made it official after Ma passed.”

“Mmm... so you really _are_ like a brother to Tony.”

Steve nodded. “He’s the only family I got. Well, him and Nat.”

Bucky leaned in again but stayed quiet, settling for playing with Steve’s fingers. Steve could tell he wanted to know more, but was having trouble coming out with it.

His suspicion was that it had to do with Rumlow and the case. And maybe, just maybe it was possible it was Steve that needed to get it off his chest. Confess and get his penance, so to speak.

He took a breath and steeled himself for Bucky shutting down on him again.

“So that stuff with your ex, can we talk about it?”

Steve felt Bucky stiffen and he sat up, putting distance between them as he hugged his knees to his chest. It made Steve’s heart sink, the way Bucky reacted, but he knew he needed to get it all out in the open.

“You said he hired you?” Bucky asked, big gray eyes searching Steve’s face.

He nodded again. “It's a pretty common request. People think their partner is cheating on them, and they hire someone to investigate and provide evidence,” he explained as objectively as possible.

Bucky’s jaw jumped, the muscle tightening quickly before releasing. He didn’t look surprised, more disappointed than anything.

“He never did believe me.”

“You know, sometimes the worst part about my job is that I can tell when someone’s abusive. Kind of like it doesn’t matter what I observe, what evidence I give them, they’ll never believe anything other than what they’ve already decided-“

“Then why do you do it?” Bucky interrupted, hurt evident in his voice. Steve wasn’t sure if it was from knowing he took the job or because Bucky was innocent and Brock never believed him.

“Because, Buck…” he began, searching Bucky’s eyes for understanding. “For a lot of people, being shown what kind of person their abuser is, by someone they don’t know? Sometimes that’s the only way to help them see how much danger they’re really in.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, when there’s someone like Brock, the other person isn’t always strong enough to end things. They keep forgiving, or worse, believing when they’re told that everything is their fault.” Steve shifted so he would look straight at Bucky. He reached up gently and caught the corner of Bucky’s jaw in his warm hand, thumb stroking his cheek. “And you’re so much stronger than that. You did it on your own; you stood up and said _no more.”_

“I don’t feel so strong,” Bucky murmured. He shrugged, eyes downcast. “I let him hurt me for way too long. I let them…”

Bucky’s voice broke and he tried to blink back the tears that burned hot in his eyes, but they fell anyway. The memories of what Brock did, what he let Jack do to him… it was all coming back, crawling up from the depths of where he’d tried to bury it.

“It’s okay. You can tell me. I’m here for you, so just let it out, sweetheart. Let it out and you can finally start to heal.”

Bucky didn’t look back at Steve. He kept his eyes trained on the fabric of his pants, which he picked at nervously wherever there was a stray piece of lint. Just when Steve thought Bucky was going to close him off completely, he spoke.

“When Tony promoted me to lead intern, I was so excited. I went straight to Brock’s that night instead of going home. I just couldn’t wait to tell him the news, but when I got there, he and Jack had been drinking.”

The way Bucky said it was like the drinking in and of itself explained something. Steve's mind immediately went back to the short videos posted on Jack’s Facebook page of the two men partying and taking advantage of the uninhibited women.

Steve nodded, encouraging Bucky to continue.

“He immediately accused me of cheating. Said the only way I could possibly get promoted was by sucking dick because that it’s all I’m good for.” Bucky swiped at the tears that escaped his lashes, and plowed forward anyway. “I couldn’t believe it, I was so embarrassed. Before that… I mean, he smacked me around and stuff when we argued, but never in front of anyone, you know? Like, it was all behind closed doors so he looked perfect to everyone else.

“He, uh, Jack...” Bucky swallowed hard. Steve gave him the water and he gulped some down before continuing. “Jack just sat there on the couch, watching with this look on his face. I tried to save face, you know? Defend myself that time. I was just- I didn't expect anything like that. I actually thought he would be proud of me. The more I tried to explain, the more Brock hurt me and I- I saw Jack was getting turned on. He liked watching me get roughed up and he started touching himself.

“Next thing I know, Brock has me by the back of the neck and my face is shoved into Jack’s lap. He tells me to show him just how good I am at being a little whore. That if I don’t, the two of them and their friends are gonna pay Tony a visit.”

“No, Buck…” Steve’s brow creased deep and his jaw was set. It wasn’t so much out of concern for Tony, because Happy had that covered, but picturing Bucky take that kind of abuse made his stomach sour. He wanted to wrap Bucky up, never let anything touch him again, and he sure as fuck didn't want to hear anything more about what Brock did to Bucky. At the same time, he knew Bucky had to get this out, and how much it meant that he felt safe enough to do it with him.

Bucky gave a little self deprecating shrug. “I guess everything with Grant just goes to show that’s what I’m known for now. I just didn’t want it to- I mean, I couldn’t let them ruin everything I worked so hard for. ‘Sides, even if I didn’t do what Brock said, they would have done it to me anyway and made it hurt worse.

“That’s how it started. Brock would let them take turns while he had his way with me, Jack and their other friend. I don’t know his name though, they just always called him Sitwell. If I ever refused, Brock would threaten to get back at me at work.” He shook his head, tears returning. “I should never have told him about Peter and Wanda. One time I tried to fight back, I told him they wouldn’t be able to get to Tony because of his security. That’s when he reminded me us interns don’t have a security detail.”

“They- god, they raped you. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

Bucky reached out and held Steve’s arm, his eyes wide and insistent. “No! They didn’t- I did those things, Steve. It was my fault. I did everything they said. I mean, I didn’t want to, but I couldn't let them hurt anyone else.”

“Buck, it’s okay.” Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky and held him as he shuddered. The revelation, saying it all out loud was too much for Bucky. His whole body trembled in fear, anxiety, relief… Too many different things to try and name.

“It’s okay, you're safe now,” Steve breathed into Bucky’s hair, pressing light kisses against the softness of it. “You may have done those things, but it was because they threatened you; that means it was against your will. It’s not consent if they make you afraid to say no. It wasn’t your fault. God Buck, I’m so sorry they did that to you.”

“You think so?” Bucky asked in a tiny voice. He didn’t move out of his position against Steve, his arms wrapped around his torso and his face pressed against his chest.

“I know so, sweetheart. I promise.”

Steve pressed another kiss into the soft brown hair on top of Bucky’s head and let him stay wrapped around his body like a baby koala for as long as he wanted. It took a while, but he eventually stirred. He inhaled a big yawn and muttered, “Hungry.”

Steve chuckled and relaxed his grip enough for Bucky to wriggle out. He got up from the bed and stretched, popping the length of his spine as he twisted before heading to the bathroom. Steve heard Bucky washing his face and took the opportunity to work some of the kinks out of his own spine. He was standing, arms outstretched over his head when Bucky came back out. He didn’t miss the way Bucky’s eyes flicked to the exposed flash of skin above his waist as his shirt rode up before coming back up to meet his gaze

“Thank you,” Bucky breathed as he wrapped his arms around Steve’s torso in another hug.

Steve huffed a soft laugh at the affectionate contact and wrapped his heavy arms around Bucky in response. “Hey, no big deal. S’what I’m here for.” He rubbed Bucky’s back with his warm hand while the other arm held him. “What’re you hungry for?”

Bucky shrugged, still not moving from Steve’s embrace. “Dunno. Sushi?”

“Mmm. Sounds good to me. We just gotta do one more thing, though. Okay?”

Bucky slumped against Steve and grumbled. He knew what exactly what he was talking about.

The statement.

Grant.

His fucked up day wasn’t over yet.

 


	15. Officer Johann Schmidt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a certain sense of liberation when you finally speak your mind. In Bucky's case, it's something that takes practice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: Homophobia and anxiety
> 
> Continuation from Chapter 14- Bucky disassociated in front of Steve, and thankfully, Steve recognized his need for help. He got him to his room, found his meds and stayed with him until he was able to communicate his needs. During their conversation, Bucky finally broke down and confided in Steve about the abuse (physical, emotional, sexual) and rape he'd suffered at the hands of Brock and his friends. The confession and support from Steve help Bucky accept those things weren't his fault.

Bucky giving his statement to the local law enforcement went about as well as the rest of his time in Vegas had gone. That is to say it was a veritable roller coaster of emotions, but at least Steve stayed with him, walking him through the process.

  
They settled into a small security office in the basement of the hotel, and an officer entered along with the facility's head of security. The officer was an imposing man named Schmidt with severe features and a strange accent. His demeanor improved ever so slightly once Steve introduced himself professionally, handing him a business card.

  
“I’ll have to ask you to wait outside, Mr. Rogers,” he began and Bucky immediately tensed. He shot a pleading look to Steve, who furrowed his brow at the request.

  
Bucky spoke up, voice wavering at first, but then growing more sure. “No. I want him here. You can stay, right Steve?”

  
Officer Schmidt sighed in annoyance, waving his hand in Bucky’s general direction. “That is up to you, but let’s begin, shall we?”

  
Steve took the seat next to Bucky, covering his hand in reassurance when Bucky instinctively reached out for Steve’s thigh under the table. Schmidt didn’t miss the interaction and narrowed his eyes at the two for a brief moment before flipping open his pad of paper. He turned on his recorder and set it on the top of the table between them.

  
Schmidt cleared his voice. “This is Officer Johann Schmidt with the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department, interviewing one James Barnes, stated victim for a complaint against Grant Ward.

  
“Also present is Steven Rogers of Rogers Investigative Services out of New York. Mr. Rogers, would you please state your relation to the victim?” Schmidt asked. There was just a hint of condescension in his tone and his eyes held plenty of disdain.

 

Steve missed nothing.

  
He knew a homophobe when he saw one, so he met Schmidt’s eyes with a challenge in his own and answered in his best Steve-Rogers-Is-Done-With-Your-Shit tone. “Yes, I am contracted with Stark Industries to provide privacy and security for their staff while they are here for the Technology Research and Development Convention.”

  
Schmidt grunted, noting a few things on his paper before looking at Bucky. He wrote STARK in big letters and underlined it on his paper. “I understand this happened last night?”

Bucky nodded.

  
“I’ll need a verbal response please, Mr. Barnes.”

  
Steve squeezed Bucky’s hand again, letting him know he was there, and Bucky cleared his throat, running his free hand through his hair in that nervous little way he had. “Yeah... Uh- yes. Last night.”

  
“Why don’t you tell him in your own words what happened, Buck,” Steve encouraged quietly. Bucky looked at Steve, and he nodded back at him, lips curving up in a little you can do it grin.

  
“Okay. Uh, so I was at a table playing Blackjack,” he began. “I was just relaxing, you know? And after a few of the people at the table left, he - Grant - he moved closer and started like, really coming on to me. I tried being polite, because I didn’t wanna make him mad or anything. The dealer saw how forward he was being and he um, asked if I needed help when I was leaving.”

  
“Did you accept this assistance, Mr. Barnes?” Schmidt asked, and Bucky shook his head no.

  
“No, I just wanted to get outta there, so I told him I was fine.”

  
Schmidt made a noise in the back of his throat. “Is it possible, then, that Mr. Ward would take that as encour-”

  
“Now wait a minute,” Steve interrupted, temper flaring. “Bu- James didn’t do anything wrong here. You know, there is video surveillance of the incident, so why don’t we refer to that, yeah?”

  
“Yes, yes, Mr. Rogers,” Schmidt patronized. “After I get a complete statement, we will see exactly how the incident transpired.”

  
Bucky looked at Steve and saw his jaw tighten. The fact that Steve was there protecting him helped, but the tension in the room was making Bucky nervous. He began again, trying to be as cooperative as possible and hoping it would get them out of there sooner rather than later. He just wanted to be done.

  
“I went straight to the elevator so I could get back to my room, and he followed me in. I didn't know he came in until he pushed me against the wall.”

  
“Is this how you injured yourself, Mr. Barnes?” Schmidt asked, nodding to Bucky’s wrapped hand.

  
Bucky shook his head no, but remembered to reply verbally just in time. “No, he grabbed me hard by my jaw and…” Bucky trailed off for a moment, nervously picking at his nails. Steve saw the way he was fighting his anxiety and put a gentle hand on Bucky’s forearm, causing him look up at the officer.

  
“I told him to let me go, but he grabbed me and hit my head back against the wall really hard.” Bucky swallowed hard and looked at Steve, who nodded in encouragement. “I told him to get off me and he… kissed me, I guess?” Bucky made a face and his cheeks flushed red in embarrassment. “He shoved his tongue into my mouth and I bit him, and then I was finally able to push him off of me.”

  
Steve wanted to reach out and hold Bucky, to protect him from the world and keep him safe, but he knew Bucky needed to get through his statement if Schmidt was ever going to do anything to help. So instead, he squeezed Bucky’s forearm and when their eyes met he did his absolute best to convey all the support he needed through his expression. It broke Steve’s heart, though, seeing the tears shining in Bucky’s eyes again. Bucky shuddered out a breath, and with a self-deprecating grin, shook his head.

  
“He was drunk so he stumbled back, but he came at me again and I hit him.” Something must have clicked in his head because Bucky’s eyes widened as he held up his hands, “But it was self defense, I swear! I had to keep him off of me. When I hit him, he fell back and as soon as the door opened, I ran. I didn’t see him again until the convention today.”

  
“I see,” Schmidt nodded, jotting down a few more notes. “Where did you go after this altercation in the elevator?”

  
“To my room.”

  
“And when did you notify Mr. Rogers?” Schmidt tested and Bucky looked down. It didn’t seem like it should be at all possible, but he managed to fold in on himself even further.

  
“I talked to Steve about it this morning, before we left to go to the convention. It- it was late, and I didn’t want to wake anyone. I just wanted to lock my door and get some sleep.

  
“I’m sorry, Steve,” Bucky murmured, looking up at him, his hand softly covering Steve’s on his forearm. “I should’a come to you sooner. Maybe if I...” Steve held onto Bucky. He gently squeezed and wrapped his free arm around his shoulders.

  
“Hey, it’s okay. Look, we’re almost done and you’re doing good, Buck. I’m proud of you,” Steve spoke softly to Bucky, deliberately ignoring Schmidt across the table. Honestly, Steve had long since stopped caring what the officer thought. Bucky was hurting, and it was Steve’s personally appointed top priority to take care of him.

  
Schmidt looked at the two men with obvious disdain on his face. He flipped his book closed and turned off the recorder. “I’ve heard enough. Let’s get the surveillance review over with, and you two can get back to whatever else it is you need to do today.”

  
Steve glared at Schmidt as he exited to find the hotel security manager before directing his attention back to Bucky. His bright blue eyes that had been radiating righteous fury at the officer softened, making Bucky’s lips curve up in the slightest hint of an actual smile. Steve leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to his temple, pulling him close in reassurance.

  
“This part’s not gonna be easy, okay sweetheart?” Steve warned. From his experience, it was never easy on the victim to watch footage of an assault, and with the way Bucky had already broken down that day, even to the point of disassociating, it worried him. “I’m right here, okay? I got you.”

  
Bucky nodded before burying himself in the crook of Steve’s neck. He breathed deep, inhaling the scent of Steve, which he’d come to associate with comfort and protection. He just couldn’t get enough of it, the way he smelled, the way his strong arms felt wrapped around him.

  
He knew that once they got back to New York things would change. It would be back to the real world, as it were, but in the meantime… While he still had this closeness with Steve, he could push away the anxiety and dread of dealing with Brock again. Bucky wasn’t stupid enough to think Brock would actually let him go so easily. Not once he and Jack got word of what happened with Grant.

  
Officer Schmidt walked back in, hesitating when he saw Bucky wrapped up in Steve’s arms. The hotel’s security manager bumped into him, not expecting to have him stop abruptly.

  
“Excuse me,” the other man said, furrowing his brow and shifting his gaze between Schmidt standing awkwardly, and Steve and Bucky sitting at the table.

  
He entered around Schmidt and reached his hand out to introduce himself. “Steve Rogers I presume?” he directed at Steve. “I’m Jim Morita, head of security at this facility. I already spoke with Maria this afternoon. I’ve also spoken to the watch commander at LV Metro.”

  
Steve noticed the look of annoyance on Schmidt’s face when Jim mentioned speaking to the watch commander. “Thank you for your help, Jim. I hope it wasn’t too much of an inconvenience keeping Ward here in your custody this afternoon.”

  
Jim grinned and shrugged a shoulder. “Not after Maria told me what happened and I saw the footage; it wasn’t a problem at all. I’m glad we could help.

  
“I’m sorry you went through that kind of experience, Mr. Barnes," he continued, this time addressing Bucky. “We take every assault seriously here. I work personally with watch command at LV Metro, which is why Officer Schmidt will be following the protocol for taking the perpetrator into custody for processing.”

  
The tone and language Morita used was all Steve needed to hear. He had begun doubting anything would happen with Ward, given the flippant nature of Schmidt’s attitude. The officer was allowing his own personal homophobia affect his judgement with the case.

  
“Just as soon as I see evidence of an assault, Mr. Morita,” Schmidt answered back.

  
“Oh, you'll see it,” Morita replied, not even looking at Schmidt. “Mr. Barnes, this may be difficult to watch, but rest assured that once it's done, so are you for today. Grant Ward will be off the streets and you can hopefully enjoy the rest of your time here in Vegas.”

  
“Thank you,” Bucky sighed, mentally preparing himself for viewing the recording. He turned to face the screen on the wall but stayed close enough for contact and held Steve's hand.

  
Morita pressed a button on the remote and the pre-recorded surveillance from the casino floor began playing. Bucky was surprised, considering the incident happened in the elevator.

  
“The dealer hit a button letting us know something wasn't right when he saw your obvious discomfort, Mr. Barnes.”

  
Morita zoomed in to the table where Grant was closing in on Bucky, violating his personal space. It was obvious, given Bucky's body language, that the attention was unwelcome. When Bucky nearly fell off the stool, Steve's chest tightened, all the could haves and should haves running through his mind. If only he'd followed Bucky up from Eclipse, maybe the whole assault could have been avoided.

  
“I know what you're thinking, Steve. Don't do that to yourself,” Bucky murmured quietly, looking at Steve with those big gray eyes.

  
Steve drug his attention away from the screen that had just gone dark after Bucky, and then a moment later, Grant, exited the frame. Morita cleared his throat, politely interrupting their exchange.

  
“I just have one more. The elevator footage was identified after we went back through the archive. Are you ready?” Morita asked, and Bucky took a breath, sitting up straight.

  
“I'm ready, go ahead,” he said with confidence. So much confidence in fact, that it surprised Steve, though he'd never tell Bucky that.

  
The elevator footage was indeed more difficult than Bucky expected, but he got through it; for that, he was proud of himself. Steve, on the other hand, was tense- like a live wire, or a band about to snap. Bucky could tell by the way the muscle in his jaw jumped, and the grip he had on the edge of the table with his free hand. He honestly wouldn't be surprised if there were Steve-shaped finger divots in the metal by the time he let go.

  
“Do you have any further questions, Officer, or was the evidence sufficient?” Steve asked through clenched teeth.

  
Morita picked right up on the tension in the room and pulled out a business card, handing it over to Schmidt. “Have Commander Lang call if he needs anything else. I've already sent him the footage and he's expecting your return with Ward for booking,” he said, tone smug and with a smirk of satisfaction teasing his lips.

  
“That's for you, Schmidt,” Morita clarified, nodding to the card. “I'll see Lang this weekend at our regular tee-time.”

  
Schmidt stood silently, gaping like a fish. He tucked the card in his notebook and stood to leave without a word. Once the door closed behind him, Morita spoke again.

“Hey, sorry about that guy, he's a total dick. Off the record, Lang lost a bet and had to accept two transfers from Reno, of all places. It was him and a squirrelly little guy named Zola. Real pieces of work, those two.

“Mr. Barnes, I know you're here on business, however there is a large suite on your floor I'd like to move you into. With everything you've had to go through, it's the least we can do,” Morita offered.

“Oh, um- okay,” Bucky looked at Steve and hesitated. He really wanted Steve to stay with him, since he was having such a hard time controlling his anxiety but wasn't sure how to ask, or if Steve would even go for something like that. “Thank you, Mr. Morita.”

“Call me Jim.”

Bucky grinned, “Then call me Bucky, please.”

“Alright, Bucky.” Morita reached into his pocket and pulled out another business card, initialing it and writing ‘Bucky Barnes complete courtesy’ and the dates of their stay, and handed it over to Bucky. “This will settle any billed services for the entirety of your stay with us. If you approve moving to the suite, I can have someone begin taking care of your things right away.”

“I, uh,” Bucky stammered and looked to Steve again.

Steve nodded once to Bucky, figuring out what he needed. “Would you mind if we took a minute, Jim?”

He nodded, “Of course, my office is right next door. Take all the time you need.”

Once the door closed and they were alone, Bucky leaned forward, resting his forehead on his hands. Steve held the back of his neck, palm warm and heavy, grounding. The sensation was exactly what Bucky needed, and Steve was getting pretty good at anticipating how to read him.

“I wanted to ask you something, Steve. It's, um… You can totally say no if it's too weird, but,” Bucky tried, turning fully to Steve but blushing and stumbling over the request.

Steve looked over at him fondly, grinning at him like an idiot. Bucky was just adorable, is what it was. He couldn't help the warmth blooming in his chest every time he looked into those pretty gray eyes or saw how Bucky's cheeks pinked up when he touched him.

“You know the best thing to do when you're trying to figure out how to say something?”

“What's that?” Bucky asked, brow furrowed in seriousness.

“Just blurt it out.”

Bucky huffed a soft laugh. “Sure, easier said than done.”

Steve shrugged. “Probably.”

“Can you stay with me?” No sooner was it out, than Bucky was trying to clarify. “I mean, I know you don't want a hookup, Steve... And that's not what I'm asking for. I just- I'm having a real tough time with my anxiety, and I think it would help to have someone there.”

Steve went to respond but before he could get an answer out, Bucky was rambling again. “And I totally, um- I understand if that's too weird for you. You don't have to-”

“Buck, hang on,” Steve interrupted. “It's okay, I get it.”

“You do?” The hopeful little grin on Bucky's face was infectious.

“Yeah, I do. I'm happy to do it if it's gonna help you,” Steve answered softly, reaching out and absently running his fingers along Bucky's hairline, tucking his hair back behind his ear. Anything he could do to help Bucky was a no-brainer, just sign him right the fuck up. “Come on, let's wrap this up with Jim and get some dinner. Sushi still sound good?”

Steve was met by a blinding smile, full of relief and gratitude. “Yeah, sounds really good.”


	16. La Dolce Vita

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like it says, life is sweet.

**La Dolce Vita**

 

After getting the room cards from Jim, Steve and Bucky decided they were first and foremost hungry. They’d figure out logistics with their belongings later. The two headed to the closest Sushi spot; luckily, it was a place with great reviews and an incredibly entertaining group of chefs. They made it in just before the dinner rush, grabbing two seats at the counter.

“So?” Steve drawled, looking at the menus they were handed after ordering drinks.

“Mmm?” Bucky replied, half listening. He was famished and his twenty-five year old metabolism had already run through any leftover calories he had in the tank.

Steve looked over at Bucky, taking a minute to just sit and admire his profile while he poured over the menu. He watched as he nibbled his lip and absently scratched the beginnings of stubble on his jaw, gray eyes flitting about the offerings, scanning sushi, sashimi, rolls, udon and ramen. Just deciding…

_Jesus, he was beautiful._

He was a grown man, yes, but still young and full of so much untapped potential. When Steve saw the genuine pride and happiness create a light within him that morning after his promotion, it was addictive, as was the hint of cockiness the previous night when Bucky teased Sharon about the AIM project. Then later that evening when he teased Steve in a much more enticing way... _Fuck,_ Steve was getting hooked.

Getting hooked fast.

“You say somethin’, Stevie?” Bucky asked casually, looking up at Steve and catching him in the act of staring like a lovesick schoolgirl.

The sweet little grin playing st Bucky’s lips sure didn't help Steve focus on the matter at hand. It only served to make his heart skip a beat, the world around him feeling both dizzying and thrilling as he struggled to find his voice again. He schooled his expression and took a sip of his beer, nodding his head toward Bucky’s menu.

“Yeah…” Steve cleared his throat, “I was wonderin’, after we eat… What do you wanna do tonight?” he asked, popping a few beans of warm edamame in his mouth and giving it something to do other than drool over Bucky Barnes.

Bucky shrugged easily, a million different ideas racing through his mind. There was so much to see and do in Vegas, it would take forever to check off all the things on his bucket list.

_Wanda._

Bucky laughed to himself when he remembered Wanda texting him the link to the _Thunder from Down Under_ website. They’d just found out they were going to Vegas and she was adamant they make a show.

“What’s so funny?”

Bucky grinned again, “I just remembered when we found out we were coming here. Wanda made a _demand.”_

“A demand?”

“Yeah, she said she would be holding the inventory files ransom until I agreed to take her to enjoy the hot, muscular side of Vegas,” he answered, raising his eyebrows suggestively. “I'll let you infer from that what you will.

Steve rubbed his chin, deliberately trying to look deep in thought. He tapped a long finger to his pursed lips and Bucky giggled.

“Okay, Sherlock,” Bucky teased, bumping Steve’s shoulder playfully. “So _dramatic.”_

Steve laughed and Bucky dove back into the bowl of edamame, slowly coming more to life with each mouthful of protein.

“Would this place possibly be known for experiencing frequent _Thunder?”_ Steve asked, arching a brow right back at Bucky.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have a winner!”

Steve laughed too, then squinted in thought. “You think Peter would be up for it?”

The look Bucky shot Steve in response was half stunned surprise, half confusion- like he wasn’t sure if Steve was pulling his proverbial leg or not.

“Really?” Bucky swallowed hard around a gulp of beer.

Steve tried his best to shoot Bucky another suggestive look. “I mean, I got plenty to look at already,” he shrugged, “but if it’s something you wanna do.”

“Oh my God, Steve! You’re such a dork!” Bucky laughed loudly. Steve joined in, and they had a great time flirting ridiculously and polishing off the bowl of edamame while waiting for their food.

Steve went with a spicy salmon roll and some Octopus. Bucky, at Steve’s behest, tried adding a California roll to his order, even though he swore a passionate hatred for all things avocado.

“How can you hate avocado? It’s literally the perfect food!”

“Perfect? Steve you’re crazy! It’s disgusting,” Bucky declared. He deadpanned, looking at Steve directly. “I don’t even know if I can keep sitting next to you.”

Steve cracked up. “What is this, _Mean Girls?_ You’re gonna use the ‘you can’t sit with us’ card on me? I mean,” Steve continued, teasing, “I know I’m not wearing pink, but jeez, Buck, I thought we were tighter than that.”

Bucky giggled. Being with Steve, teasing and flirting back and forth was just what he needed. An enormous weight had been lifted off his shoulders and he felt lighter, free. So free, in fact, that the prospect of a new beginning started taking hold of him.

He promptly reeled that thought back in, though. Steve has already told him they weren’t going to hook up, but still… The light in those impossibly blue eyes and the way Steve’s lips curved up a little higher on one side when he laughed hard, it was something to behold.

“What is it?” Steve asked, still grinning but quieter once Bucky paused.

He purses his lips, considering for a moment. “Every day’s Wednesday with you, Steve.” Bucky blurted against his better judgement.

“What? How?”

Bucky leaned in, cupping Steve's jaw and softly brushing their lips together. “Right here,” he murmured, teasing but chaste enough to not make a scene. “With these… You got pink on every day.”

Steve pulled back, looking into Bucky’s eyes and bit down on an incredulous grin, because Bucky was a huge dork, too. It was only momentarily though, because when Bucky realized what he’d said, he snorted out an unbecoming, yet totally endearing laugh.

The two broke out in another fit of giggles, making the chefs behind the counter glance over at their antics, commenting in Japanese and grinning along with them. Steve and Bucky, they were completely ridiculous yet open and honest as they tried - and failed - to be suave with each other.

***

Bucky was full, happy, and a little tipsy after dinner. He’d had a few beers and shared a bottle of hot sake with Steve. Between that and taking anxiety meds earlier that day, a calm and companionable familiarity settled over him.

When Steve walked him to the suite, Bucky stayed close to Steve's side and held onto his hand. They entered, and wandered the rooms together.

“You sure about this, Buck?” Steve asked, talking about him staying with Bucky. It was a very luxurious, but only _one bedroom_ suite, though there was a fold-out option in the living room sofa.

Steve wasn't looking forward to cramping all 6’2” and 240+ pounds of his body into sleeping on a sofa bed, but he'd do it if Bucky needed him to, and he'd do it without bitching. He went to move the throw pillows so he could pull the mattress out, and Bucky stopped him, a hand tentatively covering his own. When Steve looked up and stood, their eyes met.

Bucky was hesitating, nibbling on his lip in the warm light filtering in from the last bits of the desert sunset. That only made Steve want to do it himself - to nip at those lips and show Bucky all the other things he could do with his mouth, but he stuck that thought right back where it belonged in his primordial urges file. His other urge, to sketch Bucky, still hadn't gone away, and he wondered if Bucky would be up for something like that.

Steve looked down to where Bucky held his hand. “What's up, sweetheart?” he asked quietly.

Bucky looked up at him with big innocent eyes, there was a little bit of mirth dancing in them, too. “That's not a very big bed, Stevie.”

“S’okay, I'll be fine,” Steve shrugged, resolute in his decision to be there for Bucky without complaint.

Bucky pulled him by the hand, leading him back to the bedroom. Steve's stomach did a little flip and he felt his cheeks heat up the tiniest bit. It was okay, he could blame the flush on the rice wine.

Bucky stopped inside the luxurious bedroom, standing at the foot of the king-sized bed. “I like this side,” he said, nodding to his left. He blinked and looked back up at Steve innocently. “Is the right side okay with you?”

“Are you sure?” Steve asked, his throat feeling a little dry.

God, he wanted to be with Bucky so bad. Wanted to worship every inch of his body, yes, but he wanted to _just be_ with him, too. He needed that closeness as bad, if not worse than the physical attraction he felt. Needed it like he needed air in his lungs.

Bucky turned to face Steve, sliding his hands up his broad chest and shuddering out a breath. Steve could feel the nervous energy from Bucky, radiating off of him in waves. They were both treading carefully, each of them clear in their intentions, yet hesitating to move too fast. Hesitating for fear of ruining what they might have, before they even really had it.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more sure about anything than I am about you, right here, right now,” Bucky breathed, losing himself in the depths of Steve's eyes. His hands lightly trailed up from Steve’s shoulders to his jaw, which he held softly.

“Buck,” Steve breathed, almost a whisper. He looked down into those impossibly beautiful gray eyes and reached out, closing his hands around Bucky’s hips and tracing his thumbs lightly, just above the fabric of his jeans.  

Steve knew that holding Bucky in his arms was simultaneously the best and worst thing he could possibly experience in that moment. He couldn't think of anyone else he'd rather be with, but at the same time he wanted Bucky almost _too_ bad. So much so, that Steve found he was actually opening himself up for the possibility of more than a quick fuck, more than a fun time.

But what if it ended up being just a rebound for Bucky? He decided he had to take the chance, because missing out on something great because of fear wasn't how Steve Rogers lived his life. He wasn't about to start, either.

He lowered his forehead so it rested against Bucky's, squeezing his eyes closed and holding Bucky's hips just that much tighter. He couldn't seem to fight the feeling that his heart was about to beat straight out of his chest. His lungs struggled to function properly, it wasn't anything like the familiar burn of asthma, it was more because his heart wouldn't stop pounding.

God, Steve wanted to hold Bucky every day, go to sleep with him wrapped up in his arms, and wake up with their limbs tangled together. He wanted tousled hair and lazy morning kisses, quiet Sunday afternoons and hours on end to sit and capture the way Bucky's lips curved up in a smirk. He wanted to try and fail a million times over to recreate with paint to the depth and light in Bucky's beautiful eyes.

“Stevie,” Bucky begged quietly, thumbs stroking across his cheeks. Steve's name on his lips was a whispered promise, full of hope, of possibility.

Steve leaned in, closing the last bit of space between them and pressed his lips against Bucky’s. His brow furrowed and he held still, savoring that simple moment before moving, trailing them over the soft flesh of Bucky's lips and licking gently against them. Bucky kissed back, opening his mouth sweetly for Steve. The moment their tongues met, Bucky leaned further in to Steve, wrapping his arms around his neck and melting against his body.

Steve wrapped his strong arms around Bucky’s lithe frame, holding him and slowly running his hands up and down his back. He did so carefully, not wanting to hurt Bucky again like he did at Eclipse, and moved one of his arms down, holding him close around the small of his back. Steve kissed Bucky gently, doing his best to contain his passion for the man in his arms in hopes of conveying the warmth and care and desire he felt at the core of it all.

Bucky pulled back the tiniest bit as Steve continued to kiss against his lips, across his jaw, down his neck and back again. “Stevie, baby,” he whimpered, running his hands through Steve’s soft golden blond hair.

Steve moved slow, kissed Bucky soft and deep, and the sensation of being handled so gently was overwhelming for Bucky. Steve's hands weren't roaming, he wasn't pushing him back toward the bed, had only kissed his neck lightly; nevertheless Bucky was trembling in his arms.

There should have been at least some sense of familiarity, considering the previous night, but the tenderness with which Steve held Bucky was brand new. Nobody had _ever_ touched him like that before.

He almost didn't know what to do. That is, until he pulled at the hem of Steve's shirt. He wanted Steve's warm, soft skin against his own, and in that moment he didn't care about hiding his bruises. The way Steve held him so carefully made him feel safe, protected.

Steve raised his arms for Bucky, letting him take the lead. Once the shirt was over his head and tossed onto the upholstered bench at the foot of the bed, he pulled Bucky's up carefully. Their eyes met, and Steve hesitated, wanting to make sure it was okay. A sweet, shy smile played at Bucky's lips, shining and reddened from their kiss.

Bucky smiled shyly, his cheeks reddening a bit more as he nodded in permission. Steve pulled the fabric of his tee up and immediately his eyes went to the bruises scattered about his chest wall, stomach and side. He tried not to, but gasped the tiniest bit when he saw all the mottled skin covering Bucky's torso. Bucky heard Steve's quick intake of breath and realized just how bad the extensive injuries, all in varied stages of healing, stuck out against his natural pale skin.

He moved to cover himself with his arms, head dropping. “I’m sorry, I should have warned you,” Bucky mumbled, and Steve lifted his face, gently crooking a finger under his chin.

“Bucky, hey look at me sweetheart,” Steve murmured softly. Bucky did as he was asked, half expecting to look up and see disappointment or rejection in Steve's expression. Instead he was met with an open, loving smile. “You're beautiful, Buck.”

“You- you think I'm beautiful?” he asked, clearly not expecting that response. “But I'm…” he motioned to his side, where the marks were freshest, “I'm kinda beat to hell here, Stevie.”

Steve nodded, agreeing. He wasn't about to lie to Bucky, not when he had the chance to help him accept what was.

“Yeah, sweetheart, you were. And we're gonna make sure that never happens again.” Steve reached for each of Bucky's hands. He held them out at his sides, trailing his eyes lovingly over his skin before bringing them back up to wrap around his shoulders. “But that’ll never change the fact that to me?” He met Bucky's eyes and held his gaze purposefully. “You're beautiful. Goddamned gorgeous is what you are.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a bit in here about mixing anxiety meds (benzodiazepines) with alcohol, and the narrative infers that this isn't a big deal. THIS IS WRONG. Mixing alcohol and prescription medication isn't just dumb, it's extremely dangerous, but this is a work of fiction, and nothing more. 
> 
> Stay smart people. If you or someone you love does this either on accident or deliberately, it's wise to seek medical care.


	17. Seriously Askin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve goes out of his comfort zone. He only meant to help Bucky put his pieces back together, so why is he the one having a hard time breathing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rest In Peace, Stan Lee. Your work, passion and spirit will live on for generations to come.

**Seriously Askin’**

The next thing Bucky knew, he was wrapped up again in Steve’s arms. It was an odd sensation, to say the least, having someone standing and holding him tenderly, chest to chest, not roughing him up or forcing him to his knees.

Bucky got to kiss, and be kissed, and enjoy taking all the time he wanted just being held. Steve’s skin was warm, soft and flawless, so Bucky didn’t even try to stop himself when he decided he wanted to feel it under his lips.

Steve leaned back for Bucky, running his hands through his soft hair, watching his face for any sign of discomfort. He didn’t see anything to indicate he wasn’t fully engaged, the opposite, really.

When Bucky took to one of Steve's nipples, experimentally giving it a tiny lick, a breathy, _“Fuck,”_ escaped Steve’s lips.

Bucky grinned up at him through his lashes, and began to shift them toward the bed. What really surprised him was how Steve sat on the edge. He didn't lay right down so Bucky could suck him off, so when instead of guiding him to his knees like Bucky expected, Steve pulled him close between his legs and took to kissing down his body, a shy flush bloomed on his cheeks and began spreading lower.

Steve was gentle, so gentle that it gave Bucky time to think, to process exactly what they were doing and just how _cared for_ everything Steve did made him feel. Steve kissed the bruised flesh covering Bucky's torso, he lightly trailed his fingers across the mottled skin and only squeezed where he was sure it wouldn't hurt Bucky.

Steve desperately wanted to be able to heal Bucky. Though he couldn’t do anything to help the outside, he paid special attention to the badly bruised areas, kissing softly and with tender pressure.

Bucky was unaccustomed to such valuation. Whenever he had been allowed to have a little pleasure for himself, he’d always had to keep his hands steadfast at his sides or behind his back - another of Brock’s methods of control. It wasn’t an easy thing to do, to just break so much conditioning and abuse, especially since he so desperately wanted to be _good_ for Steve.

But Steve wasn’t Brock. He was Steve - the one who came to his defense at the convention, Steve who was gentle with him at Eclipse, and wanted to talk about things when Bucky was shutting him out, running away. He was the one who took care of Bucky through the episode, and got him the meds he needed without judgement, and stayed with him during a whole lot of ugly. Steve who was still there - showering him with affection.

After enough hesitation, Bucky finally got up the courage to run his hands through that soft, blond hair while Steve’s hands lightly trailed over the skin of his back. Steve took one of Bucky's nipples into his mouth, his tongue teasing and flicking over the stiff bud - and if the little whimper Bucky breathed out was any indication, it was a welcome gesture.

So welcome, in fact, Bucky was becoming overstimulated. Steve’s touch wound him tight, like a live wire. His head spun, and the friction he desperately needed wasn’t coming soon enough.

“Steve,” Bucky whimpered, looking down in desperation as he reached between them to palm at his length.

But then he froze, remembering that was something he wasn’t allowed to do, so he quickly dropped his hands back to his sides.

Steve latched onto his other nipple and teased just right, eliciting a small cry from Bucky. “Oh, fuck, _Stevie... Please,_ I - I need to… Can I touch myself?”

Bucky's voice was laced with desperation, his lips red and kiss-swollen, and when Steve pulled off of Bucky's skin with a wet _‘pop’,_ to look up into his eyes, he just had to have him. He was almost positive Bucky was feeling the same way, but _almost_ wasn't enough. He needed to be sure, so he stood, took Bucky’s jaw in his hands and kissed him deeply.

“Buck,” he murmured, whispering against his lips. “Yeah, baby, ‘course, touch whatever you want, me, you… I- Goddamn sweetheart, I want you so bad - but, are you sure you want to do this?”

Bucky nodded, earnestly kissing back. “Please Stevie, let me-“

Steve cut him off with another kiss, holding Bucky and keeping him up on his feet. He knew enough to know where Bucky was going with it, knew he was ready to sink to his knees right there. And yeah, the thought of those beautiful lips wrapped around his cock would be enough to push anyone over the edge, but Steve was a man on a mission.

The mission was collecting all of Bucky’s broken pieces and being there for him, encouraging him as he put his own puzzle back together. Steve wasn't naive, he knew the only fixing that would last had to be done by Bucky's own hands, his own choices and his own will. And just maybe there were a few little pieces he could help Bucky with, give him some gentle guidance.

“Lie down on the bed, Buck,” Steve ordered gently when their lips parted. “Just like you are.”

There was a flash of confusion that crossed Bucky’s face, just for a brief moment, but then he did as he was asked. Steve climbed into the giant bed with him and hovered over him, settling between Bucky’s legs and grinding their hips together just enough to tease.

Bucky bit down into his own lip, but his hands stayed flat against the bed as if he was waiting for for permission. Steve could practically feel the vibrations of uncertainty coming off of his body, so he leaned down and kissed him sweet, soft and gentle.

“Let me take care of you, Buck,” he whispered, looking down into those impossibly beautiful eyes. “I promise I won’t hurt you, baby.”

A tiny whining sound broke free of Bucky’s throat and he reached up, carding fingers through Steve’s hair, pulling him in for another kiss.

“There you go,” Steve praised when they parted. He rested above Bucky on one elbow, running the back of his fingers lovingly across Bucky’s cheek. “I do want you to touch me, but only if you want that. M’gonna give you anything you want, everything you need. Okay?”

Bucky nodded, his breath coming in soft pants against Steve’s lips. Bucky’s hands moved experimentally from Steve’s hair, then around to his sides and down to the small of his back, his blunt nails softly trailing across Steve’s skin. He traced Steve’s muscles with his fingers, and the feeling of those hands on his skin made Steve moan out Bucky’s name, grinding down and kissing him again.

Steve could tell the praise and positive responses were working wonders for Bucky, and he was quickly figuring out what he needed. These gentle touches were new, and foreign, so there was a bit of it Bucky was still struggling with. Steve tried to explain where he was going with it in hopes of relieving some of the anxiety of the unknown.

“You’re beautiful, Buck. Doin’ so good,” Steve grinned down, kissing against his lips ever-so-gently, watching as a little more of the tension left Bucky’s body. “I need you to tell me if you don’t like something though, okay sweetheart?”

All throughout the instruction, Steve stayed close, covering Bucky’s body with his own. He tried to keep the warmth and reassurance against his skin, to use his own body as a shield, protecting Bucky from the demons of his past. He trailed his hands lazily up and down Bucky’s arms and leaned in, kissing against Bucky’s throat. As he licked up the side of his neck and to his ear he tugged, eliciting a louder moan from Bucky.

 _Yes._ That brought a smile to his lips.

“You like that, sweetheart?” he asked against Bucky’s skin, grinding his hips together.

“Yeah,” came the faintest whisper and nod.

Steve continued kissing the skin of Bucky’s neck and grinding against him. His free hand traced down Bucky’s chest carefully, avoiding putting too much pressure on the many bruised areas.

He teased Bucky’s nipple again, and when Bucky arched up into the touch, his mouth followed his hand. His flicked his tongue against it, teasing lightly at first, but then he closed his lips over the stiff bud and suckled. He was encouraged when Bucky moaned out his name and held him by the back of his head, so he kept on him, giving him more of what he wanted.

“Stevie, _oh…_ God yeah,” he whispered and kissed the top of Steve’s head before dropping his head back on a sigh.

It was such a gentle display of affection that if Steve hadn’t been paying close attention to Bucky’s responses, he may have missed it. But he didn’t, because Steve was determined to find out what set Bucky on fire.

He switched sides again, and lavished Bucky’s other nipple with the same affection, getting an even stronger response in return. Steve grinned against his skin, tasting and teasing. Bucky was getting more comfortable, braver with each passing moment, so he took the opportunity to praise him some more.

“You're so good baby, I love hearing you. Tell me what else you like.”

When their eyes met again, Steve could practically feel Bucky folding in on himself. Maybe outright saying what he wanted was too much just yet, so Steve tried a different approach.

_One step forward and all..._

He ran his fingers up through Bucky’s hair, absently trailing across his hairline and met his eyes again. “It’s okay if you’re not ready for somethin’ just yet, okay babydoll?”

The pet name was sweet and just so _Steve._ Bucky nodded and pulled him back in for another kiss. Just like that, they were back on track. It was time to put more of Bucky’s power back in his hands where it belonged.

“Can I keep kissin’ you?” Steve asked Bucky as he trailed his lips back down Bucky’s neck.

 _“Uh-huh,”_ was the simple, quiet reply he got, so he went with it.

He moved down, trailing his lips lower with each passing moment. Knowing what he did of the way fast movements affected Bucky, Steve deliberately kept his movements slow, languid.

And so what if that was a win-win? It gave him more time to not just enjoy the feeling of Bucky’s beautiful body beneath him, but also pay attention to his little tells.

A hitching of breath here, a pleased little sigh there. It wasn’t so hard to get answers on what he wanted, Steve just had to speak the right language, was all. It took time, some focus, some extra effort, but those were all things Steve had plenty of when it came to Bucky.

Who knew that there was an especially erogenous spot just past the dip of Bucky’s ribs, and another just over the muscle of his obliques, near his hip? When Steve lightly ran his teeth over that sensitive flesh, Bucky moaned louder, his breath hitching and fingers tightening on Steve’s shoulders.

“Good?” Steve asked, looking up into Bucky’s eyes only to find a frenzied expression staring back at him.

Bucky was panting, lips parted and brow furrowed in pleasure. He nodded yes and dropped his head back down against the soft pillow, body writhing when Steve did it again.

“Jesus Buck, you’re so beautiful. I love your sweet noises, baby,” Steve praised, pressing, hot, wet, open mouth kisses along the skin just above the waist of his jeans. He nuzzled his face against the hard line of Bucky’s cock, which was straining against the denim fabric, and breathed a hot breath out against the bulge in his pants. Finally, he tugged at the material and asked in a low voice, “Can I take these off?”

“Yeah,” Bucky whimpered.

He nodded down at Steve again, his hands rushing to undo the button and zipper, but Steve stopped him, covering his hands and bringing them to his lips. He kissed each finger, then sucked a few of them into his mouth, giving Bucky a picture of exactly what he wanted.

When he sat back on his knees and went to work on Bucky’s fly, the look of nervous disbelief hit Steve straight in the heart. God, he wanted to hold Bucky, wrap him up in his arms and never let anything hurt him again.

Bucky was trembling, Steve could feel it when he worked the zipper down. Then, when he Steve pulled the remainder of his clothes off, it was suddenly all too much for Bucky. He sat up and went for Steve’s fly straight away, sounding desperate.

“Steve, I can... I mean, will you let me?”

“Soon, sweetheart. But only if that's what you wanna do,” Steve cooed. “Right now let _me_ take care’a _you,_ yeah? I wanna make you feel good.”

They kissed again, and Steve let Bucky undo do his button and fly. He tried to shuffle out of his pants as best as he could while still kneeling on the bed so he could stay close to Bucky.

It was a little comical, and a whole lot awkward, but they made it work and soon they were grinning into each other's mouths. Steve chuckled, intentionally poking fun at himself to lighten the mood when he was finally free of his clothes.

“M’pretty graceful, huh?”

He wanted more than anything for this to be good for Bucky, for him to have fun and enjoy himself. And if he had to embarrass himself a little to get there? Well, that was a small price to pay.

“Mhmm, this is much smoother,” Bucky teased with a soft giggle after Steve laid him back with more finesse.

And _fuck yeah,_ that’s what Steve needed.

He sealed his lips over Bucky’s possessively, and the sensitive skin of their erections brushed against each other for the first time. It was all so overwhelming, the heady rush and pounding heartbeat against his chest. Steve caught himself breathing hard and fast against Bucky’s mouth, his body getting away from him in its own search for pleasure and release. He shuddered a breath, pressing their foreheads together as he shut his eyes tight, fighting to regain his composure.

It wasn’t the easiest thing to do with a beautiful man beneath him, writhing and panting and begging to touch, so Steve beat Bucky to the punch, so to speak. He reached down and gently palmed Bucky’s erection, jerking him slowly and watching with rapt attention as Bucky’s eyes fluttered shut. He started moaning freely, focusing on nothing other than the pleasure Steve’s touch brought him.

“Stay there for me, okay?” Steve asked, moving lower and getting ready to take Bucky apart with his mouth. He got into position, but rather than command or instruct Bucky, he simply looked up at him with all the want and desire those big blue eyes of his could hold. “Buck,” he asked, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses along the inside of Bucky’s upper thigh and against the sensitive skin where his leg met his body. “God, I want you so bad, sweetheart, I wanna suck your beautiful cock. Can I?”

 _“Jesus,_ Steve,” Bucky covered his eyes with his hands. He laughed, a breathy, yet happy sound, then propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at Steve. “Are you _seriously_ _askin_ ’ me?”

Steve grinned, proud of himself for bringing Bucky back into the moment completely. He knew that by breaking it up, maybe even surprising Bucky with all the many opportunities he had to _give_ consent, it would teach him how to do just that. Freely, with the power to say no, to learn how to maintain his own autonomy and control.

“Yeah, I’m _seriously_ _askin’_ you,” he answered softly, a pleased and proud tone to his deep voice. He lightly trailed the tips of his fingers along the flat of Bucky's belly. “I’m only gonna do somethin’ if you allow me to. I promise I’ll only touch you if you want to be touched, and I’ll stop if you ever change your mind.”

Bucky stilled, breath hitching and then bolted up, climbing into Steve's lap and pulling him into a desperate kiss. The proximity of Steve's mouth to Bucky's dick mere moments before was completely forgotten as the strongest need to _hold_ Steve and _be held_ took over.

“I'm more than just a hookup?” he asked hopefully as they parted just enough to breathe, breathlessly repeating Steve's words from that first time alone in Steve's room.

Steve pulled back more, brushing Bucky's long hair off his forehead and tucking it behind his ear. He held his jaw gently, tracing his thumb down and resting it in the little divot there.

When he leaned up to kiss Bucky's forehead and each eyelid, he knew. Knew by the furious pounding in his heart and the tightness in his chest and the beating of butterflies against his insides.

Bucky was it for him. Whether or not it worked, whether or not Bucky felt the same, Steve was already fully invested. Which was crazy, really, but when you know, you just _know._

“More than a hookup? You're everything, Buck. My heart’s in your hands.”

Steve's voice shook as he said those very words. And while his breath wavered, the simultaneous vulnerability and resolve in his eyes spoke volumes. Steve, Bucky’s protector. Steve, his hero, who didn't think twice about shielding him from Grant or Schmidt, or _himself_ for that matter.

Bucky believed Steve, so he told him so, just not in so many words.

“Me too.”

“You too?”

“Yeah. I mean, I really like being with you. You're sweet, you’re gentle and protective, and a _total_ dork,” he laughed, but then continued seriously. “You're a good man, Steve. So, you know, us? I want there to be an us.”

Their lips met again, unrushed at first, but soon there was more heat behind the kiss. Bucky gave a little nip to Steve's lower lip and his breath hitched as Steve laid him back and set to grinding their cocks against one other.

Steve whispered low against Bucky's ear as he tugged with his teeth, “So, you gonna let me suck you?”

“Yes... _Jesus,_ yes!” Bucky laughed breathily, his eyes crinkling in mirth. “Please Stevie, _fuck..._ I - I want that.”

That's exactly how Steve Rogers ended up with nothing but a decorative throw pillow under his knees on the cool marble floor of a Las Vegas suite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for staying with me, lovies! I’m floored by all of the positive response this story is getting, and that so many of you are able to connect with - and root for these two! 
> 
> So yeah, more sexy times mixed with deep conversations and healing... those are the best kind of sexy times for anyone who’s experienced abuse. One thing’s paramount to remember though, and that is HEALING IS NOT LINEAR.
> 
> There will be ups and downs, but that’s how we live, love and learn.


	18. There’s a First Time for Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve’s never been in this deep this fast. Or ever, really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 100% Smut

**First Time for Everything**

If someone had asked Steve Rogers a year, or even a week ago if he would be able to get off with barely a touch to his dick, just after experiencing having someone else’s cock in his mouth, he would have laughed. Not that he didn’t  _ enjoy  _ giving head. He did. And he liked to think he was pretty good at it, too. 

Still, the whole act was about pleasing someone else, which was good. It was. It turned him on and gave him something to look forward to, like getting sucked off, or a good fuck. 

That was until he experienced the beauty that was Bucky Barnes getting a blow job. And sure, maybe the fact that he was rapidly becoming head over heels for the guy had something to do with it, too. But the little noises Bucky made when Steve finally took him into to his mouth, and the shudder of a breath that accompanied those hands as they gingerly slid through his hair, reflexively tightening and then just as quickly letting go? That was something Steve felt deep. 

He liked it so much he wanted more. More of Bucky's chest rising and falling with every breath he took, more of that darkened stare - half disbelief and all desire - more of those intense grey eyes aimed right down at him.

Steve quickly discovered just how much he loved the way Bucky felt and tasted on his tongue. With all the kissing, caressing, teasing he’d done before really getting his mouth on Bucky, by the time they were finally there, Steve was ready to devour him. Bucky’s cock, rock hard, heated to Steve's touch and leaking precome was a beautiful sight to behold. 

So Steve grabbed Bucky by the hips and slid him toward the edge of the bed, settling between his thighs. Giving him one last opportunity to change his mind, Steve reached up and licked into Bucky’s waiting mouth, nipping at his kiss-swollen lips. 

“So beautiful, so good,” he whispered against Bucky’s mouth before kissing down his body, not nearly as slow as the languid pace he’d set before.

Steve nipped gently at Bucky’s non-injured skin on his way. He wrapped his hand around his shaft, thumbing the head and spreading precome with a teasing touch. He leaned in, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses at the base of his dick and drug his tongue up before suckling the tip into his mouth as he kept his hand moving, wrapped around Bucky’s shaft.

Steve couldn’t help but moan at the taste of Bucky’s cock in his mouth, which had its own set of benefits for Bucky, feeling those vibrations from his throat. He swallowed him down, diving in and taking him all the way into the back of his mouth, which wasn’t something he much enjoyed on the regular. But with Bucky? It wasn’t even about performing. Steve desperately needed every glorious inch of him. 

Bucky leaned back when Steve took him deeper into his mouth, and his head dropped back as he let out a desperate litany of curses, hands fisting into the blankets. It took every bit of self control for him to keep from fucking up into Steve’s throat. Between the wet heat of his mouth and the way Steve sucked harder on every upstroke, holy shit, Bucky wasn’t going to last.

“Fuck, Steve… Oh,  _ oh God!”  _ Bucky breathed, chest heaving on a soft cry. 

Steve took that reaction as a positive response and went deeper. He looked up into Bucky’s eyes, his own big and blue and begging. When they met, there was a look of desperation in Bucky’s darkened stare, his brow furrowing and his lower lip caught between his teeth.

Steve reached for one of Bucky’s hands and guided it to the back of his head. He didn’t want Bucky thinking he couldn’t touch again, so that was a gentle reminder. At first, Bucky’s hand stayed light, simply resting against Steve’s hair, but the pressure slowly increased. Before he knew it, there were long, elegant fingers combing through his hair and wrapping into the base of the soft golden strands. When Bucky’s fingers curled in deeper and he felt the tiniest pull, Steve moaned in assent with his mouth full, giving Bucky extra sensations from the vibrations in the back of his throat.

“Oh Jesus, Steve,” he begged as Steve popped off with a lewd sound, catching his breath and flicking his tongue at the underside of Bucky’s head and at his opening, lapping up more precome. 

His hand sped up, mouth sucking harder and then popping off in a teasing pattern as he grinned ferally up at Bucky. Steve took him as deep as he could, relaxing his throat and swallowing around the intrusion. As he did, the hand Steve had cupping Bucky’s balls lifted and squeezed gently. Bucky threw his head back on another, much louder moan. 

“Stevie,” he begged high in the back of his throat, hands reaching back for the bed to ground himself. “Jesus,  _ fuck…  _ Oh  _ fuck _ that feels so good, I - I’m gonna...”

“Give it to me, Buck,” Steve all but demanded when he popped off Bucky’s cock again, his voice deep, eyes boring into Bucky’s. “You’re so goddamn good, I wanna taste you. Come for me, babydoll.”

Steve dove in, moaning deep at the feeling the intrusion at the back of his throat caused. He worked Bucky’s balls over again, a delicious heat licking up his spine from the way he could feel them drawing up in his hand. He knew Bucky was teetering on the edge and Steve was dangerously close himself, getting closer with each sharp intake of breath, each desperate sound Bucky made. 

Bucky ran his fingers back through Steve’s hair without having to be told, just taking the opportunity to enjoy every sensation for himself for once. He moaned out loud and pulled at the hair at the back of Steve’s head at the same time Steve hollowed his cheeks and sucked up his length. 

When Bucky came into Steve’s mouth on a sharp cry of bliss, toes curling and chest heaving, Steve kept him there, swallowing around his pulsing orgasm. Hot jets of come shot into Steve’s mouth, and Steve almost gave into the fire in the pit of his own belly, but this was all about Bucky. Steve didn’t want anything more in that moment than to commit every little gasp, moan, and whimper to memory because Bucky falling apart was a beautiful thing.

“Steve,” Bucky breathed shakily as he pulled him up and stood. 

Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve’s shoulders, his breath still coming in soft pants as they kissed. Steve held him tight as he trembled, kissing back desperately and giving Bucky a taste of the remnants of his own come still on his tongue.

“Thank you, Stevie,” Bucky breathed softly, still sounding as if he was floating. He kissed Steve again and slid a hand down Steve’s body to his dick, jerking slowly and spreading the generous amount of precome down his shaft. “Thank you.”

A few simple strokes is all it took before Steve came with a grunt into Bucky’s hand with a low, guttural moan. 

“Holy fuckin’ shit, Buck.”


	19. These Things Happen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve lets his guard down a little bit. Or maybe it's obliterated by Bucky. He's not sure which, but the resulting evening isn't anything to complain about.

**These Things Happen**

After a long, hot shower together, Steve and Bucky dressed, then went to gather the rest of Steve’s things from his room. It didn’t take long, since Steve had hardly unpacked, what with the time spent out on the town and then the party at Eclipse. He hadn’t been in his room much at all, actually.

Bucky texted Wanda and Peter about the room change, and at the same time, Steve notified Tony and the rest of security. Most of the responses to Steve came back professionally... well, not really, but at least the one from Victoria did. Happy sent Steve a thumbs up with an eggplant emoji, and Maria a winking emoji, but Tony… he was another story.

 

 **Tony:** _I take it you unfucked your mess?_

 **Steve:** _Yes, I took care of it. Things are really good._

 **Tony:** _And the guy from the convention I heard about?_

 **Steve:** _Taken care of, in custody with LVPD. He’s a friend of the ex, so I’ll deal with that when I get home._

 **Tony:** _Good. Don’t do anything stupid when you get back, Steve. Work it out with Happy, ok? I’ll see you guys at 8am._

 **Steve:** _Me? Do something stupid?_

 **Tony:** _Yeah, I know hard to believe, huh? You two try and get in at least some sleep tonight ;)_

 **Steve:** _No guarantees_

 **Tony:** _Hah, I can imagine. See you in the morning._

 

~*~

There was something just so soft and innocent about the way Bucky snuggled up into Steve’s side once they settled in, lying in bed watching the news, nothing between them but their underwear. It was utterly perfect, if you asked Steve, and it was exactly what he wanted in life. A warm, sated feeling settled into his bones, and he turned his head, nudging at Bucky until those plush lips angled up and met his in an unrushed kiss.

They kissed languidly and Bucky’s hands ran up, cupping Steve’s jaw. He lost himself in the moment and grumbled when his phone buzzed from the side table where it was charging. It buzzed again, and Steve pulled back, sighing and running his fingers through Bucky’s hair.

“Go ahead, sweetheart,” he said, kissing the tip of Bucky’s nose. “Might be important.”

Bucky reluctantly unwrapped himself from Steve’s embrace, then giggled when he saw the screen. He shook his head and tapped out a smart-ass reply before it buzzed again, making him laugh louder.

“What’s so funny, you?” Steve asked quietly, draping himself over Bucky’s back and hooking his chin over his shoulder.

“Remember Wanda’s demand?” Bucky asked, turning his head back to Steve and pecking a light kiss on his cheek

“Mhmm.”

“Look,” he said grinning, holding up his phone so Steve could see the photo Peter had just sent. It was a selfie of Peter and Wanda inside the club with the _Thunder from Down Under_ stage in the background. Wanda looked all kinds of excited and Peter was still a little flushed around the edges from embarrassment.

Steve laughed, just imagining Peter’s face once the performance got started. “Well, he did want me to teach him a few things.”

“I’m gonna remind him,” Bucky said, typing out a reply. He paused for a moment and hummed a pleased little sigh, distracted by the gentle kisses Steve was pressing against the side of his neck and below his ear. Bucky let his eyes flutter shut before pressing send and setting his phone back down. _“Mmm,_ Stevie.”

“I ever tell you how beautiful you are Buck?” Steve murmured, kissing down to the nape of Bucky’s neck. His hands reached around to Bucky’s chest and stomach, trailing lightly and avoiding putting too much pressure on the bruised and battered flesh. He teased his fingertips up over a pebbled nipple and Bucky arched back into his body, doing his best to turn himself enough to meet Steve’s lips.

Once Steve pulled Bucky back into the bed and underneath him, their languid kissing grew more heated and time ceased to exist. Steve settled between Bucky’s thighs but kept his body weight from pressing down too much, propping himself up on a forearm and letting the other hand roam. He cupped Bucky’s jaw, teased at his nipple again, and slid lightly down Bucky’s side until he had the flawless skin of Bucky’s hip in his hand. Steve squeezed lightly, just enough to convey the desire he had for Bucky while at the same time, grinding his hips down, the slow hardening of his cock complete and loving the resistance from Bucky’s already filled erection.

As Bucky’s arms wrapped around the muscle of Steve’s torso, his hand slid down to the small of Steve's back, just above the waist of his underwear. Steve pulled back, kissing lightly again and again at Bucky’s plush lips and Bucky took a chance, nipping up at Steve’s mouth playfully.

Through a grin, Bucky hummed, “Stevie, you make me feel so good. I really want this.”

“What do you want, Buck?” Steve asked quietly, looking into Bucky’s eyes, colors and lights flickering from the TV against the soft gray color of his irises. “Tell me, sweetheart... tell me what you want.”

“You,” Bucky answered quietly, simply, stilling beneath Steve. “I want every part of you…” Bucky trailed off, looking away for a moment. He swallowed thickly, but then met Steve’s eyes again, having somewhere found more courage. He trailed his fingertips lightly along Steve’s clavicle and shuddered out a breath before continuing. “When we’re back home, can - will I still be able to see you? You know, like this?”

If Steve wasn’t already falling head over fucking heels for the beautiful young man beneath him, the simple way Bucky asked for what he wanted would have done it. Steve had always been a huge fan of speaking his mind, and the fact that Bucky felt safe enough with him to do that was an enormous accomplishment.

“Yeah, Buck,” he grinned wide, kissing Bucky again, “yeah, ‘course you will.” Steve dove back into Bucky’s mouth, kissing him for all his worth. “I’m all yours, sweetheart. You got me, as much a’me as you want for as long as you want.”

“Really?” Bucky asked, a hopeful expression in his eyes, fingers still trailing along Steve’s clavicle. “I got some... issues, though. It’s not, uhm - s’not gonna be so easy and I just don’t want it to come between us.”

“Sweetheart, there’s only thing comin’ between us right now,” Steve grinned and rolled his hips, hoping to lighten the mood.

He had to, because the way Bucky was so honest and open made his heartbeat skip and his chest squeeze. He began to feel a watery burning behind his eyes; Steve Rogers wasn’t a sap, yet there he was, heart on his proverbial sleeve, unprotected and there for the taking by a beautiful brunet with the prettiest gray eyes and sweetest grin he’d ever seen.

Bucky took the bait, and pushed Steve’s waistband down enough to palm a handful of Steve’s ass, pulling him flush against his own body, letting him know how wanted he was, how much he needed him in that moment. He reached up and met Steve’s lips with a fervor and confidence that Steve hadn’t yet experienced from him, making Steve growl in response, kissing him back deeply.

Steve rolled his hips down and was met with a demanding moan from Bucky’s lips. He wrapped his fingers around the elastic waistband of Bucky’s underwear and tugged lightly, pulling back and looking Bucky in the eye. He asked permission with the expression in his eyes as he nodded, raising his brow, waiting for an answer before doing anything else.

Bucky met Steve’s eyes right back, nodding his head as he panted out soft puffs of air, still writhing in desire beneath him. “Please, Stevie,” he whispered against Steve’s lips. “Will you fuck me? I need you, please, you gotta give me this.”

For a moment, Steve hated himself. Hated how weak he was around Bucky, how he knew he’d do just about anything the sweet guy asked of him. That self-hatred was was short lived, though, because as soon as Bucky’s lips were back on Steve’s, and Bucky’s hands were grasping for purchase anywhere and everywhere, Steve knew he was done for. It was like a switch was flipped, rendering all of Steve’s common sense useless, limiting his vision, his thoughts, everything to Bucky and only Bucky.

“Yeah, Buck. I need you too, sweetheart.”


	20. Jesus Happy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Steve get news that should have come sooner, and Happy is no fucking help. Really, not at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: If you're still here, then you're aware of the rape/non-con story line, but I wanted to post this warning anyway. There's mention of Brock the shit-show Rumlow being awful to other people. That's all though, just mention of it in this chapter.

**Jesus Happy!**

“Well good mornin’ Sunshine!” Happy teased when Steve entered the conference room early for his security meeting. “Nice a’ you to finally join us again.”

“Hey Hap,” Steve yawned as he made the slowest bee-line in history directly to the coffee pot. 

Next to file in was Maria, followed shortly by Victoria. Each looked bright and fresh - and a lot more rested than Steve felt. It wasn’t that he didn’t get any sleep, per se, he slept soundly… a few times, actually, but having a beautiful man in bed with him wasn’t something he wanted to waste. Needless to say, after Bucky and Steve fucked the first time, then again a few hours later, Steve fell face first into a coma only to be interrupted when Bucky woke him up, batting at him blindly, grumpily demanding Steve turn his alarm off before burrowing into his side, arm wrapped snugly around Steve’s waist like he was the world’s biggest muscle-bound teddy bear. 

The 5am swim could fuck itself that day. Instead, Steve slept a bit longer, then showered with a sleepy Bucky in his arms, managing to wake him up more by sucking his cock again. And yeah, there really was something magical about Bucky’s mouth, because when they traded blow jobs that morning, Steve was surprised he didn’t black out from sheer force of the pleasure. 

“Alright, let’s get to business,” Happy began. “We’re loading the tech directly after Tony gives the closing address today. I dunno about you guys, but I’m down too much money to spend anymore time here in Vegas.” 

Happy took a long pull from his coffee, setting the cup down and looking dead at Steve. “When we get back to the Tower, you and I gotta go through some things with Barnes.”

Steve nodded, a small frown taking up residence across his forehead. He wondered what it was they needed to address so immediately, but also privately. Truthfully, he’d much rather get the shit finished with the equipment and make sure Bucky got home okay. There was still the matter of dealing with Rumlow. 

“Maria, you and Victoria mind overseeing the equipment when we get back? I gotta clear a few things with this new promotion that Tony so graciously dropped in my lap without any notice.” Happy looked to Steve and nodded, “Me and Rogers also gotta square away the charges with the dickhead and the assault case before we can finish up and head home.”

Maria nodded, a determined look on her face. It reminded Steve of the way she had his back so seamlessly in the convention center the prior day, and shit, it sure was good to work with such competent people. 

“Anything you need, Happy. You know that,” she replied matter of factly, then turned to Steve. “Since you’ve got the case with Barnes, and he’s in the Exec pool now, why don’t you head back with them on the other flight?” 

Happy’s eyes flicked between Maria and Steve. Pepper had arranged to have the entire business class section for the Stark Industries executives, so trading the team out wouldn’t be an issue; two in, two out. He scrubbed a big hand down his face and sighed quietly. 

“Yeah, that’s a good idea, Maria. I should’a thought of that. You down for it, Rogers?”

“Sure,” Steve nodded. “I’ll be there.” 

Honestly, business class sounded nice, and he’d be damned if he was going to separate himself from Bucky before he was able to get him home safe. Nobody else needed to know that, but it seemed like Happy understood more than he let on, because Bucky’s security clearance and promotion papers didn’t  _ have _ to be done immediately. Something else was afoot, and given the cloak and dagger bullshit surrounding Happy’s cryptic comments, he’d be filling Steve in sooner rather than later. 

The rest of the team began filing into the conference room, and Steve blushed when Happy shot him a wink and a knowing grin once Bucky was there. Bucky had entered looking a little flushed and laughing softly at something Wanda said as she squeezed his arm. When everyone took their seats, Bucky sat right next to Steve, and as per their new routine, Steve reached over to rest his hand on Bucky’s thigh - under the table, of course. He didn’t want to be inappropriate in Bucky’s place of work.

“Barnes,” Happy called across the table, not loud, but enough to get his attention. 

Bucky’s eyes shot up immediately, and he straightened in his chair, the little bit of executive posture noticeable to Steve. “Yeah Happy?”

Happy motioned to Steve with his chin. “You and Rogers are coming back on the commercial jet. We got some processes to go through when we get back to the Tower, yeah?”

Bucky’s eyes shot to Steve briefly, and Steve managed to respond with a near imperceptible nod and a squeeze to Bucky’s thigh. “Sure,” Bucky replied, nodding confidently before opening his folder outlining the day’s agenda.

~*~

“We’re back, sweetheart,” Steve murmured as Bucky stirred, gray eyes fluttering open. He figured he’d let Bucky sleep on the flight as long as possible, but since they were on the ground and it was time to disembark, he leaned over and kissed Bucky softly on the temple.

Steve was met with a sweet smile and soft, pouty lips that begged to be kissed. Bucky hummed softly and held Steve’s jaw as their lips met briefly, just a chaste little display of affection. Steve stood, stretching his arms high above his head. God, it sure was nice to fly home in business class instead of the smaller plane they’d taken with the equipment to Vegas. He pulled their things from the carry-on bin and followed Bucky off the plane.

Another perk of returning with the executives was the limo waiting to take them, along with Tony, Pepper and Happy from Teterboro back to the Tower. It would be easy to let Bucky get lost in the elegance of everything, but Steve still didn’t know what the hell was going on that had to be addressed that day, and his patience was running thin. Call it jet lag, but he at least managed to keep most of the grumbling out of his voice, so there was that.

“What’s going on with you guys, anyway?” he asked, passing up on the whiskey Tony offered him in favor of a bottle of water. 

Bucky looked surprised at the way Steve blurted out the question to the group. Not knowing the whole story and wanting to make him anxious, Steve hadn’t told Bucky of his suspicions that something else was up with Happy’s request, but like most things, that was about to bite Steve in the ass. 

Tony’s eyes shot to Pepper, then back to Steve as he fidgeted, and Steve knew that look. It was the one that said Tony was afraid he'd opened his mouth out of turn about something sensitive. Pepper leaned forward, her hand resting on Steve's knee, and Steve felt Bucky stiffen anxiously in the seat next to him.

“I spoke with Chief Fury yesterday,” she began, eyes moving from Steve to Bucky. “Because of the man from the convention, I had concerns for your safety back at home, Bucky. I hope you're not upset that I overstepped - which I absolutely did - but I thought I'd check into a few things while your teams were busy.”

Steve noticed Bucky's posture change, felt him pull just that much farther away as he folded back in on himself out of a long ingrained habit. His hand reached for Bucky's, hoping to ground him in the here and now, give him some reassurance as Pepper cleared her throat awkwardly.

“I really apologize, Bucky, but I think after you hear me out you'll understand.”

“It's okay, Pepper. I don't… I'm not upset with you,” Bucky began, then looked to Tony. “But Tony, uh,” he cleared his throat. “I assure you I won't let any of that affect my work. You have my word.”

“Hey, listen kid, that's not what this is about.” Tony shifted in his seat. “The thing is - well, what Pepper found out-”

“Chief said they had just put it together,” Happy interrupted in the impatient way he had. “When Pepper told him about Ward, it matched with some cases they had with witness tampering in relation to another one.”

“I don't understand…” Bucky began, but he was also interrupted by Happy.

“Turns out Rumlow and a few of his associates are suspected in connection with a group of serial rapists and Fury’s hoping you'll be able to piece together SVU’s timeline. Maybe you can help put them away.” 

“He's what?” Bucky blurted, fear lacing his tone. He shook his head, holding his hands out in defense. “No, I don't think thats… I mean, why do they need me? I can't-”

Steve turned to face Bucky directly, softly cupping his cheeks. “It's okay, Buck. You're alright. Just look at me, yeah?”

Big, panicky gray eyes pleaded with Steve as Bucky’s hands held tight to his forearms. “Steve, I can’t. It’ll just set him off. You don't understand, he’ll-”

“I'm not gonna let him, sweetheart,” Steve answered as Bucky's breathing became shallow. Shit, he was starting to have an anxiety attack, and his meds were in his carry on, in the trunk. Steve took Bucky's hand and did what Sarah had done for him when he was a sickly little asthmatic trying to breathe; he held Bucky's hand against his chest and exaggerated his breathing rhythmically. “It's gonna be okay. You're okay, just breathe with me.”

Bucky paused, then nodded, closing his eyes and doing his best to control his breathing, knowing he was heading full speed into a panic attack, but refusing to let it wash over him completely, to pull him under. Breathing in when Steve's chest rose, out when it fell, he nodded again, listening to the sound of Steve's voice, focusing on the constant hum of the car’s engine, feeling the vibration from the tires on the road. He was okay, he was present, still there in the car with the others. 

He hadn't disassociated.

Just then, Pepper’s phone rang. “Hi Nick… Yes, we’ve landed. We’re heading back to the Tower now… Oh, sure… See you soon.”

Pepper turned back to Bucky, her apologetic expression becoming more concerned. “I know this is scary, Bucky, and I really can’t apologize enough for going about it the way I did.”

“You should have told us, Pep. This isn’t something you just drop on someone,” Steve gently admonished. He had nothing but respect for Pepper, always had, but this wasn’t good for Bucky. He could have prepared him for dealing with it if he knew ahead of time what they were walking into.

“It’s okay, Steve,” Bucky said quietly, ever the peacemaker. “Please don’t be mad.”

The worried look on Bucky’s face begged reassurance, and Steve felt bad for a moment. He didn’t want to upset Bucky, and it was obvious Bucky wasn’t familiar enough with the dynamic between Steve and the others to know there was no anger or animosity involved in the conversation. 

“Oh I’m not mad, Buck. I just want you to be prepared for what’s comin’ your way is all. You’ve had a hell of a few days.” Steve turned back to the others. “I take it the Chief’s gonna meet us at the Tower?”

Pepper nodded, and Tony remained uncharacteristically non-hyperverbal. It didn’t surprise Steve, because while he had absolutely no problem ripping Steve a new one the other day, that was different. That was between he and Steve - just family - and this was business. Business mixed with family, but business nonetheless, and business had always caused Tony to become emotionally constipated when it came to uncomfortable situations. He much preferred to stay in his Labs and let Pepper handle the public relations.

“Do I have to do this, Steve?” Bucky asked, still on the fence about getting involved. 

Steve took a breath and looked down at his and Bucky’s hands, still holding tight to each other. God, Bucky’s hands were beautiful, just like the rest of him. The same intrinsic need to protect Bucky bubbled up in Steve’s chest, and he furrowed his brow, resolute.

“You should, sweetheart,” Steve answered quietly, intimately, then met Bucky’s eyes. “The detectives need your help, and by the sounds of it, this has happened to a lot of people. It’s bigger than just you, Buck. People are being hurt, and you have a chance to help them. I’ll be there right next to ya, if you want, but if you really don’t wanna do this, you don’t have to do anything more than what the detectives can require by law.”

“What’s that?”

“They can subpoena you, then you’d have to cooperate in court, or you can be brought in if they get a warrant for you as a material witness,” Happy supplied ever-so-helpfully. 

Bucky’s eyes widened and Steve clenched his jaw. “Jesus, Happy! Do me a favor and don’t help, okay?” he barked. 

Pepper spoke up next, after giving Happy a look that said many, many words unsuitable for someone of her position. “Bucky, don’t listen to him. Chief Fury isn’t going to do any of those things to you. I’ve already spoken to our attorneys, and they’re going to meet us at the Tower too, in case you have any questions that aren’t explained to your satisfaction.”

“Okay. Uh, thanks Pepper. I…” Bucky trailed off, looking to Steve again. He knew Steve was right, this was his chance to do something to help others who’d been hurt, and maybe it would help him along in the process of getting some closure with everything Brock had put him through. But still, it was scary as fuck, and he swallowed hard before making a decision. “I’ll do it. Whatever they need, but you’ll be there, right Steve?”

“Nowhere I’d rather be, Buck, than by your side.”


End file.
